


I Told You Tropical Islands Were No Good!

by TheAngelandtheDevil1997



Category: Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019)
Genre: Also because season 3 wasn't long enough, And because I don't sleep enough, Angst, Basically I wanna finish watching season 4 even though this story isn’t at all canon, Brief references to DC Comics, Brief references to Star Wars, Brief/Hidden References to other fandoms in OC names!, Carmen needs a hug!, Do I need to add a tag that says this is AU?, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt!Player, Hurt/Comfort, No like I REALLY don't sleep enough, Not Season/Series 04 Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Player just needs a hug!, Player!whump, Post-Season/Series 03, Protective!Carmen, Protective!Team Red, They need a serious wake-up call, Torture, We finally meet Player's parents!, Whumptober 2020, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:54:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27269062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAngelandtheDevil1997/pseuds/TheAngelandtheDevil1997
Summary: And to think, Mom said our vacation would get me out to enjoy the sun, Player thought grimly.
Relationships: Player & Carmen Sandiego | Black Sheep
Comments: 257
Kudos: 311





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vodonn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vodonn/gifts).



> (At time of publishing) Okay, this isn’t complete AT ALL, but I wanted to post/publish this story before the end of Whumptober, since this is supposed to be for it. I’m job hunting which means my life is chaos right now so I haven’t been able to finish the entire story just yet. I’ve been trying more recently to finish a story before I post any of it so this is kinda an exception. I have the next 5 or so chapters written but those won’t be out until more of the story is complete. I'm tentatively rating this M due to torture.
> 
> This story takes place after Season 3 of Carmen Sandiego (which was not NEARLY long enough!). I also tend to write my characters more mature than they are in what is technically cannon, so heads up on that.
> 
> Please know that I try to answer all comments, but that doesn't always happen. I always appreciate getting comments though!
> 
> This story is a gift to Vodonn for all of their support and help on this story! Thanks for listening to me rant while I’ve been writing this story. So, out of our mutual love of whump fics, here is a whump fic for you!
> 
> WARNINGS: Violence, torture, and more which I’ll update as the story is written.
> 
> I do not own Carmen Sandiego (Netflix). This story is a work of fiction that came from my own horrible brain because I have been searching for Player!whump and haven’t found many fics like that.  
> ......  
> 

Player wasn’t sure when everything had gone wrong, but he blamed his current situation on his parents’ decision to go out to eat, leaving him to order room service for dinner.

Okay, that might’ve been unfair, but currently Player wasn’t in the mood for technicalities. He had bigger problems to deal with; the rope cutting bloody grooves into his wrists would be one of them. The pounding migraine that was turning his vision blurry would be next on his metaphorical list of problems. 

With an aggravated huff, Player slumped, abandoning his attempt to loosen the ropes that bound his wrists. Thus far, his struggling was rewarded with drops of crimson blood staining the coarse rope. Squeezing his eyes in a futile attempt to force the migraine from his brain, he mentally amended that the “migraine” was a minor concussion and not a debilitating headache. Not that having a concussion was preferable to a migraine. Migraines weren’t unfamiliar to Player, but this was his first time having a concussion. If Player had anything to say about it, this would be the last time.

Player wasn’t stupid; on the contrary, he was a genius well before he’d unknowingly-albeit-not-so-accidentally hacked VILE and met Carmen. From the beginning, when Player began hacking as a white hat, he’d known that one day someone would be after his head. Bad guys didn’t like it when their plans got thwarted and Player had been doing that for over 6 years. His status as Carmen’s “secret weapon” was what kept his existence mostly unknown for which he was thankful. Carmen, and later Team Red as a whole, protected him just as Player protected them as they ran capers. 

But that didn’t mean he’d stay hidden forever, whether it was VILE who found him or someone else. 

Their discovery of ACME gave Player another group he’d need to stay hidden from, which was becoming all the more obvious since his little escapade into ACME’s systems. They may have been a “reverse VILE”, but there were times Player found himself counting more similarities than differences between the two groups.

The back of his head gently tapped the cold stone wall behind him with a dull thud. A shiver wracked his body, seeping into his body through his dirty hoodie and tattered board shorts. The lack of shoes and socks did not help Player conserve any body heat as he shifted to tuck his knees under his chin. Player knew the room wasn’t anything like Stockholm, where Carmen had been stranded in the snow and nearly died, but he was still chilled to the bone. Just the briefest hint of that memory sent anxiety and guilt rushing through him. After a moment of all-consuming guilt, he brushed it away in favor of focusing on his current situation. Besides, he’d just adjusted to the sunny warmth of the Virgin Islands instead of the snowy weather that was blanketing Ontario in December.

  
_And to think, Mom said our vacation would get me out to enjoy the sun,_ Player thought grimly.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Player's going where?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s chapter 2! Or is it chapter 1? You know what, this is gonna be chapter 1 since the other is technically the introduction.
> 
> Thanks as always to Vodonn!
> 
> WARNINGS: Violence, torture, and more which I’ll update as the story is written.
> 
> I do not own Carmen Sandiego (Netflix). This story is a work of fiction that came from my own horrible brain because I have been searching for Player!whump and haven’t found many fics like that.

“You’re going where?” Carmen asked, eyebrow quirked in amusement.

Player scowled at her throwing his arms up in exasperation while Ivy and Zach sniggered out of the frame of their video chat.

“Apparently, I’m going on  _ vacation _ ,” Player wrinkled his nose in distaste.

“I heard you. I meant  _ where _ are you going geographically speaking?” Carmen rolled her eyes.

“The Virgin Islands, Saint Johns to be exact,” Player sighed, leaning back in his chair to stare at the ceiling. “We’re flying into Saint Thomas but the resort is on Saint Johns.”

Player turned to the monitor on his left to bring up information that he’d usually be relaying to Carmen over the comms.

“Saint John is a constituent district of the United States Virgin Islands, situated in the Carribean Sea. It’s the smallest of the three U.S. Virgin Islands, around 50km squared. Today its economy is based around tourism, but historically the Danish West India Company used it primarily for sugar kane and cotton plantations that were run by slaves. Though Denmark emancipated the slaves in 1848, it wasn’t until 1850 that most of the plantations were abandoned. It wasn’t until World War I that the Danish Government sold the United States the three islands that now make up the U.S. Virgin Islands so they could build a naval base. Now, most of the former plantations have been turned into lavish vacation resorts, perhaps most famously Laurence Rockefeller’s Caneel Bay Resort, which is where I’ll be for vacation,” Player concluded.

“Wait, you’re complaining about jetting off to the Caribbean for some fun in the sun instead of staying in freezing cold Ontario?” Zach blurted out from over Carmen’s shoulder.

“Okay, first off, it isn’t like I am lounging around in the snow; you know I prefer to stay right where I am,” Player gestured to his room, “and two, I thought we agreed that tropical islands were a bad idea and should be avoided at all costs?”

“No, we agreed that Carmen should avoid tropical islands,” Ivy corrected.

“Who is this “we” you speak of?” Carmen frowned, crossing her arms defensively.

“Us!” Ivy and Zach chorused.

“Plus me,” Player grumbled. 

“Good luck enforcing that,” Carmen snorted. “Besides, we don’t even know if VILE has set up their new headquarters on a tropical island or not.”

“Maybe they ran out of tropical paradises to evil-ize,” Player proposed with an eye-roll.

“I don’t think “evil-ize” is a word,” Carmen countered. Player sent her a deeply unamused look.

“Semantics,” he deadpanned.

It was Carmen’s turn to send him a look.

“C’mon Player, it’s not like we’re planning any capers right now anyways,” Ivy said.

Player grimaced at the reminder. Without any knowledge of where VILE’s new base of operations was, they couldn’t steal the new hard drive of criminal data which, considering it was December 1st, should’ve been downloaded today. Going on vacation meant he couldn’t work on pin-pointing where VILE was now relocated which meant planning new capers wouldn’t be easy to do. Player knew none of Team Red blamed him for being unable to track down VILE yet, but that didn’t stop him from feeling guilty. Four years ago he’d been able to hack into VILE without any knowledge of who, where, or what they truly were. Player tried to not have an ego, but it would be a lie to say that not finding VILE yet, stung.

“Oh for-! Player, that isn’t your fault!”

Damn. Either something had shown on his face, or Carmen knew him that well. Fifty-fifty chance on that.

Carmen scowled, arms crossed as she leaned back against the sofa in their home base. Ivy and Zach wore unimpressed looks over her shoulders; it seemed they’d picked up on his train of thought too.

“Carmen, I managed to hack VILE four years ago without any knowledge of who, where, or what they were. I’d like to say I’ve improved since then, yet I still can’t find a trace of them!” Player retorted, verbalizing his earlier thoughts.

“Last I checked, hacking them and finding them are two different things, and you couldn’t locate them until I left the island,” Carmen shot back.

Okay, she may have had a point. Carmen had more-or-less told him she’d been on a tropical island for “school”, but that didn’t exactly narrow things down when it didn’t show up on any map. It may or may not have become a side project of his to recreate whatever tech VILE used to hide their location from the world besides forbidding contact with the outside world. Player wasn’t necessarily afraid of the Troll, and thereby VILE, finding out where or who he was, but he wasn’t going to take the risk of them discovering his location. 

“PLAYER!” Carmen snapped, jerking him from his thoughts.

“Sorry, what did you say?” Player asked dully.

Carmen studied him carefully, before calling to Ivy and Zach, not taking her eyes off of the laptop screen, “Hey guys, give us a moment.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Sure thing Carm. Seeya later Player!” Ivy said with a wave.

“Laters!” Zach said cheerfully, earning a smack on the head from his sister.

“What was that for?” Zach yelped as Ivy walked out of frame. Whatever her response was Player didn’t hear it as the sound of a door closing echoed around the room.

“Don’t do this again,” Carmen sighed, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees and clasp her hands together. “You almost worked yourself to the bone after Stockholm.”

“Not exactly something I can just shut off, Red,” Player grumbled. He knew better than to play dumb with her.

“Jacob,” Carmen said gently and Player winced.

Out of all of Team Red, Carmen was the only one who knew his real name. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the others, but… well it was just that Carmen was... Carmen. Carmen rarely called him by his real name, his birth name, and when she did it wasn’t his full name. Usually she’d call him Jay, on the rare occasions she actually used his name, and he could count on one hand the number of times she’d done that. The only other time Carmen had called him Jacob was when he’d told her his actual name a month after Black Sheep became Carmen Sandiego.

Player was quiet.

“Working yourself to death isn’t going to help anyone,” Carmen chided softly. “I’m worried about you, Jay.”

“And you’re guilt-tripping me,” Player muttered. “Jay” was preferable to “Jacob”, but it still felt weird to hear her call him anything but “Player”.

“Is it working?” Carmen teased.

“...Yes. I mildly hate you,” Player snipped, the answering grin he got from Carmen was both annoying and comforting.

“Love you too,” Carmen replied with a laugh. “At least try to sleep some more?”

“Yeah, yeah… Besides, with my parents actually home and soon to be dragging me to Saint Johns, I won’t have much alone time,” Player sighed.

“Is it the vacation or your parents that are bothering you?” Carmen asked.

“Both?” Player replied. “It’s just, they’re almost never home and when they are, it’s never for more than a few days. So why now, completely out of the blue, are we going on vacation, all three of us, for four weeks?”

“They want to spend time with you?” Carmen ventured.

“We’d have to actually have a relationship for them to want to do that,” Player griped. “I’m not sure if it’d be better to have a bad relationship with them instead of no relationship with them.”

“Maybe they want to build a relationship with you?” Carmen offered but grimaced at Player’s skeptical look.

Before Jacob became Player, his parents were around a lot, but their job switch when he was eight ruined that. Now they were gone weeks, often months, at a time, leaving him alone to be homeschooled online. 

“Yeah, and VILE has decided to give up evil for good and turn themselves in to the authorities,” Player said sarcastically but sighed. “Sorry Carmen, I don’t mean to complain about having parents, it’s just…”

He trailed off, but Carmen seemed to sense where he was going and nodded.

“It’s almost like you don’t have parents or know them, even if you know their names,” Carmen continued, lips pursed. She never said it, but Player knew Carmen did not approve of his parents. If it wouldn’t compromise his status as her “secret weapon”, he knew Carmen would visit his parents personally to verbally rip them apart.

“That and even when they are home, they never spend this much time with me,” Player said. “I’m not having any one-on-one time with my parents, yet I’m never alone. They keep “checking in”,” Player continued using finger quotations. 

“Which is why we’re talking at 3am your time,” Carmen summarized.

“Yup. The security cameras and alert system I set up when I met you, tell me when they’re coming towards my room, but that only works to a certain extent. I can’t exactly go MIA when I’m talking with you for capers.” Player’s eyes flickered to his cell phone, checking that his alert system was silent. So far so good.

If anyone got within 10 feet of his room, an alert would be sent to his phone which gave him enough time to hide the VILE hard drive in its secret compartment and set all of his monitors to sleep. The compartment was hidden and locked up well enough that even Carmen would have difficulties breaking in to it. That, plus the numerous cameras he had set up in every room minus his parents’, their office, and the bathrooms, helped ensure his privacy. Not that his parents were aware of them.

“See? It’s not like you’ve had much time to even try and find the hard drive with your parents breathing down your neck. That and sleep is an actual thing,” Carmen remarked dryly. 

“Like you can talk!” Player laughed, relieved that their conversation was moving away from the tension it had previously held.

“Oh hush you,” Carmen grinned. 

Player returned her smile, before glancing at his phone and wrinkling his nose in annoyance.

“Sorry Red, I gotta go. My parents will be up soon since we have to leave at 3:30am to get to the airport and I’m totally not packed yet,” Player apologized.

Carmen waved away his apologies. “No worries. At least try to relax a bit? If it makes you feel better, we’ll all take a break for a few weeks too. We’d be lost without you.”

“Thanks. I’m bringing one of my laptops and both of my phones, so I’ll contact you if anything comes up on those searches I have running. But that tech isn’t enough for me to walk you through capers,” Player warned.

For the sake of anonymity and safety (and the fact that his parents didn’t pay enough attention to him to watch what he did), he had a second phone to talk with Carmen and the rest of Team Red along with a few computers and laptops.

“Sounds good. Safe travels Player!” Carmen waved.

“Bye Carmen,” Player returned, hanging up on the video chat with a sigh.

He spun around in his chair, the momentum slowing until he made lazy circles and finally stilled. Player wasn’t looking forward to the family “vacation”, let alone the flight he’d have to take to get there. With a final huff, Player sat up, grabbed his “personal” laptop which had the least potentially-dangerous-Team-Red-related-data on it and both phones to go finish packing. It wouldn’t be long until his parents were awake and they’d be headed to the airport.

Now he only had to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut that told him all of Team Red should avoid tropical islands, including himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos please!


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are about to get interesting... soonish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s the next chapter! I’m planning on posting the next chapter sometime this weekend but we’ll see what happens. Also, hopefully the emojis in this chapter will show up correctly but please let me know if they don’t.
> 
> Thanks as always to Vodonn!
> 
> WARNINGS: Violence, torture, and more which I’ll update as the story is written.
> 
> I do not own Carmen Sandiego (Netflix). This story is a work of fiction that came from my own horrible brain because I have been searching for Player!whump and haven’t found many fics like that.

Lisa and Martin O’Connell were unassuming average forty-year-old adults. Lisa was medium height with tan skin, blue eyes, dark curly hair and an athletic build. Martin was taller than his wife, but was pale skin, dark eyes, dirty blonde straight hair, and rather muscular. They worked for some corporation that required them to travel around constantly and left their young genius son alone in Ontario to be homeschooled online for extended periods of time. 

Player would classify them as workaholics.

They never specified what they did and Player wasn’t all that interested to pry for details or even hack into their email accounts for any information. 

Groaning, Player fell back dramatically on the queen sized bed in his temporary room. His parents had booked a private villa at the Caneel Bay Resort, leaving Player with his own bedroom and bathroom which was perfectly fine with him. It was equipped with a humongous tv, mini-fridge, and even a minibar that Player didn’t even think about touching. Player absentmindedly wondered if it made his parents even more irresponsible or oblivious that they didn’t even think to take a minibar away from a sixteen-year-old; not that he had any interest in it anyways. The bathroom held a massive sink, shower, jacuzzi tub, and toilet with a heated seat and several puffy towels. 

He knew his parents were plenty rich, but Player lived by himself and wasn’t used to anything like his current surroundings. It wasn’t like he left his room that much to begin with.

The villa had its own private beach with three bedrooms with their own bathrooms, a living room, and a kitchen that Player knew wouldn’t be used. The remaining two bedrooms were used by his parents; one for sleeping, and another as a temporary office. Player didn’t even pretend to be surprised that his parents had brought work with them when on a family vacation.

Propping himself up on his elbows, Player gazed out through the open french doors that led onto a balcony overlooking the ocean. His room was on the third floor of the villa, leaving the two bedrooms his parents inhabited on the second floor and the remaining rooms on the first floor. Despite his distaste about leaving his house, Player couldn’t deny that the view was spectacular. Player had arrived with his parents a week ago, but the view still took his breath away. The sound of waves crashing on the sandy beach drifted in along with the salty sea breeze and sweet smelling flowers. He’d only seen views like it through video chats with Carmen or in pictures. 

“Jacob?” His mother’s voice startled him, causing him to almost tumble off of the bed. “I’m coming in.”

Before Player could say anything, though he wasn’t sure what he would’ve said, his mother walked into the room. She wore a long flowy skirt that tickled her ankles and a tank top that matched her bright pink nails. High heeled strap sandals gave her an extra inch of height.

“Yeah Mom?” Player asked, biting back his annoyance.

“Your father and I are going out to dinner to catch up with some business associates who we happened to run into early today, so you’re on your own for room service,” Lisa stated.

“Where was I when that happened?” Player asked. His parents hadn’t been hovering the way they had been back in Ontario, but they still checked in on him every hour or so. It wasn’t like he had any interest in going with them to a business dinner.

“You were taking a shower,” Lisa replied bluntly, either ignoring or not noticing the flush that painted the teenager’s cheeks.

“Ah,” Player coughed. 

Player didn’t blush easily, but something about his mother’s blunt matter-of-fact tone made him self-conscious.

“We’ll be back later tonight,” Lisa continued, not acknowledging the awkwardness that filled the room.

“Okay,” Player nodded. His mother nodded, before walking out and closing the door behind her.

Player pushed back the hurt that came with his parents dismissiveness with practiced ease. At least he’d have some time to work on tracking down VILE and maybe even talk with Carmen for more than a few texts.

_Food first_ , Player thought to himself, pushing himself up and walking towards the desk which held his laptop and the room service menu. As he flipped through the rather expansive menu, he absentmindedly pulled on his usual hoodie over his white t-shirt and navy board shorts. The dull thud that echoed up to his room indicated his parents had left just while Player called to order salmon with some kind of risotto with green beans and a fruit tart.

After he hung up, Player pulled out the desk chair and opened up his laptop. A few keystrokes and he was logged in as Player rather than Jacob, reactivating the half dozen programs he had running back in Ontario to track down VILE.

Picking up his “work” phone for Team Red, he sent a text to Carmen.

Me: Parental units out to business dinner. Big surprise… Am going to work on tracking down the target.

A few seconds later, his phone binged with a response from Carmen.

Red: I thought you were on vacation?

Me: I AM, but that’s under protest, remember? It’s not like my parents are going to be back any time soon.

Red: Point.

Me: And I’ve been away from my real tech for too long! It’s physically painful, Red!

Red: 😓

Me: 😒

Red: 😁

Me: Why did I ever teach you how to use emojis?

Red: Because you hadn’t slept in over 24 hours, so it was in a moment of sleep-deprived weakness. That is why you should sleep more.

Me: 😑 Hypocrite.

Red: ❤️

Player groaned, but smiled, turning back to his laptop to check the progress of the tracking programs. 

Red: Stop it.

Player frowned at the text.

Me: What?

Red: Stop checking your tracking programs every 5 min

Me: I am not

Red: 🤨

Me: ...okay, maybe I am…

Red: Well STOP!!!

Me: I’m waiting for my food! There’s nothing else for me to do!

Red: Seriously? Nothing?

Me: I feel like you’re judging me.

Red: I AM judging you. Feel the silent judgement.

Me: FINE! I’ll go do something horribly unproductive.

Red: I’m so proud of you.

Player felt no guilt for sending the emoji which more or less told Carmen to shove it. With a chuckle, he set his phone down and put his laptop to sleep. He stood up, wandering over and leaning on the balcony railing as the sea breeze tousled his hair. 

Talking with Carmen helped, but his mind still wandered to the conversation he’d had with his mother. If he could even call it a conversation. Player hadn’t been deluded enough to even hope that this “family vacation” wouldn’t become a business trip for his parents, but it still hurt. Sure, he was used to it after years of missed family vacations, holidays, and birthdays, but that didn’t make it sting any less. 

It was always the same: go to some exotic locale and get ditched within 24 hours on the rare occasions Player was dragged along by his parents. A part of him yearned for the years when his parents were always around, supporting him and encouraging him. At the same time, he couldn’t help but be relieved that they weren’t around so he could guide Team Red through their capers. It tore his heart in two so Player tried to ignore it as he usually did. 

The faint ‘bing bong’ of the villa’s doorbell jolted Player out of his musings. With a sigh, he slumped over and dragged himself down to open the door. A second ring and the faint cry of “room service” confirmed his suspicions as to who was at the door. There was no way his parents were back already though he was mildly surprised his dinner was ready so soon. Fishing out his wallet, Player grabbed a few bills in advance to give the waiter a tip before he reached the door. Before the doorbell could be rung a third time, Player was yanking the door open.

“The O’Connell villa with an order of the salmon with the house risotto, the tropical fruit tart, and a lemonade?” A cheery voice asked. 

“Yup that’s me,” Player responded absentmindedly, not looking up from the cart that held his dinner. He may have forgotten to eat both breakfast and lunch; his rumbling stomach had his full attention.

“Glad I got the villa right. Otherwise, this would’ve been awkward,” the voice was now sinister and vaguely familiar, tickling the edge of his mind.

Player looked up from the cart and froze; it was instinctive and immediately Player wished he had better control of his body.

The young woman was in her early twenties, with icy blue eyes, platinum blonde hair and a pale complexion. She wore the standard uniform the staff of the resort wore; khakis and a blue polo, but the clawed gloves, one of which held a gun, were not part of the outfit.

Red lips twisted in amusement as Tigress shot Player underneath his right collarbone before he could react. The agonizing pain of a bullet wound that he’d expected was absent, which was a relief but he couldn’t dwell on it. The blurring vision and sudden inability to stand up was far more relevant to him as he sunk to his knees.

Stubbornly, Player tried to stay conscious, shaking his head belligerently in hopes of clearing it.

“Well aren’t you a stubborn one,” Tigress mocked. “Guess that’s to be expected, given who your parents are.”

Player didn’t have time to fully process what the villain had said before hitting the ground with a dull thud and drifting into the realm of unconsciousness.

Instead, his final thought was _Carmen, please_ …

He wasn’t sure if he was begging her to rescue him or begging her to stay away.


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh... Things are starting to get interesting...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amazingly, I got this out this weekend! Yay! Now things are starting to get interesting… I’m not sure when I’ll next update, but probably within the week. I’m having trouble with a chapter I’m working on so once that’s been resolved, the next chapter will be posted.
> 
> Thanks as always to Vodonn!
> 
> WARNINGS: Violence, torture, and more which I’ll update as the story is written.
> 
> I do not own Carmen Sandiego (Netflix). This story is a work of fiction that came from my own horrible brain because I have been searching for Player!whump and haven’t found many fics like that.

Player awoke in an unfamiliar room, but one that he could easily identify as a jail cell.

_Or maybe a dungeon?_ Player thought, baffled by the cold stone room. All four walls, floor and ceiling were made of rough stone, a neon green light buzzed at the back of the room. At what was likely the front of the room was a metal door with no window, handle or knob. 

His vision was blurry and his head was pounding, the urge to curl up into a ball and ignore everything was extremely tempting. Player knew he didn’t have that luxury as memories flooded back.

_Room service, Saint John’s, “family vacation”, his parents leaving for dinner…_

_Tigress. A tranq dart._

With a groan, Player tried to pull himself into a sitting position only to stop suddenly.

His wrists were tied together.

Player took a shuddering breath, slowly releasing it like Carmen had taught him to calm down. It helped, a bit, but his thoughts were a tangled knot, overwhelmed by emotions. He dimly felt the numbing realization that he should’ve expected it the moment the memory of Tigress had slammed into his senses. Immediately he began to struggle against his bonds, rough rope tightly binding his wrists behind his back, but quickly bit his lip to block any noise of pain. The slippery sensation of blood ran down his hands, halting his efforts. Sliding back on his butt, Player slumped against the cold wall.

This was when Player blamed his parents for going out to dinner and leaving him to order room service for his current situation.

_And to think, Mom said our vacation would get me out to enjoy the sun,_ Player thought grimly. 

The thud of the door slamming open made Player flinch, cringing away as he took in the duo before him.

Tigress and Paper Star. Neither of them appeared to be happy to be near each other again, but their scowls turned to predatory grins as their eyes settled on Player.

“Well the brat is finally awake,” Tigress drawled.

Player forced his face to go blank as he studied the pair of VILE agents, staying silent.

“No words?” Tigress smirked.

“Give me three minutes with him and I’ll have him singing,” Paper Star murmured, eyeing Player the way a cat might eye a mouse.

Player stiffened but pressed his lips together. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what they wanted him for; _Carmen_. If they thought he’d tell VILE even a smidge of information about his oldest friend, then they were truly brainless morons.

Tigress rolled her eyes as she strutted towards Player. He shrunk back as she grabbed onto his shoulder, claws digging into his flesh, and yanked him to his feet.

“Move it, brat,” Tigress snapped. “Wouldn’t want you to miss the party.”

Tigress ignored Paper Star, pushing Player forward and out of the door. Player stumbled a bit, before regaining his balance in time for Tigress to shove him forward again.

“Walk,” Tigress said; he could sense her smirking behind him.

With a shaky breath, Player started walking forward, Tigress’ right hand gripping his shoulder while her left hand was held threateningly over his neck. A sharp prick of pain radiated from his neck as Tigress left a thin scratch, barely breaking the skin but giving Player an obvious message.

Try to escape and I claw your throat out.

Player faintly heard Paper Star mutter rather violent, uncomplimentary remarks behind Tigress, but either she didn’t hear them or was ignoring them.

His mind raced as he was marched forward through what looked like a stereotypical castle dungeon, but with high tech metal doors and locks instead of metal bars. 

It was fairly obvious to him that VILE had finally found out about him, Carmen’s “secret weapon” and that he was seriously screwed. The big question was, how much did VILE know? Did they only suspect his involvement or did they know for certain? Player heard Carmen’s voice echo in his head, a piece of information she’d told him years ago.

( _If you get captured, don’t say anything until you know, or have a better idea, of what your enemies know. Don’t make the assumption that they know your deepest darkest secrets, or else you’ll tell them yourself._ )

Carmen’s body had been tight, lips pursed as she relayed that information, but her eyes told a different story. There was fear in them, fear for her first and best friend. He knew she’d never blame him if he’d told whoever was interrogating him any information, but Player wouldn’t be able to forgive himself.

Player adamantly forced himself to avoid using the more appropriate word for what would happen to him: torture.

He was pushed forward, going up steep stairs, making right and left turns, marching through random doors. Player quickly went blank, all but ignoring where he was going in favor of trying to calm his racing thoughts about what lay in his near future.

He was dragged into the present as Tigress walked him through a final door, removing her claws from where they’d hovered over his exposed neck. 

The new room was massive, more like a great hall of a castle, which Player suspected was what the building was. The lights were an eerie green, casting murky shadows around and into the corners of the room. When his eyes flitted up to the end of the room, his suspicions were confirmed.

A long table that Carmen had once described to him, were the five faculty members of VILE Academy.

Coach Brunt, Professor Maelstrom, Countess Cleo, Dr. Bellum, and Roundabout.

Player had never wanted to be in a room with even one of them, let alone all five.

Tigress forced him to his knees when they stopped moving, keeping her claws digging into his shoulder as he sat back on his feet. Paper Star came to stand on his other side, a sickening grin playing on her lips. Out of the corner of his eyes, Player saw the Cleaners standing against the wall closest to Coach Brunt. 

“Here’s the brat, faculty,” Tigress smirked.

“Well done Tigress, Paper Star,” Professor Maelstrom nodded at each agent. Player wasn’t sure why he thanked Paper Star, but figured she’d played some role in his capture after Tigress had knocked him out. “You’re dismissed.”

The moment the two agents left his side, the Cleaners took their places which wasn’t much of an improvement.

The click of a door closing signaled the two agents’ exit and Professor Maelstrom leaned forward, hands clasped together.

“So, you are Agents Lisa and Martin O’Connell’s son,” he murmured. Player jerked back in shock.

“Agents?” Player choked out.

“They never told you? I suppose that’s unsurprising,” Roundabout said, an infuriating smirk on his face.

“Telling a child that they are ACME agents would be ridiculous,” Countess Cleo rolled her eyes.

“ACME,” Player repeated, mind blank as he took in that piece of information.

Player would love to dismiss what Maelstrom had told him, would love to say he was lying, and wasn’t fooling him. But he couldn’t. Slowly the pieces began to fit together, completing the puzzle of what his parents’ careers were that he hadn’t cared to finish. Now he wished he had. Player wasn’t sure how to react beyond shocked. There was fear and anger lurking at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t process it at the moment.

“ACME. Agency to Classify and Monitor Evildoers, like our own beloved organization, VILE,” Roundabout said, taking Player’s dull repeated word as a question.

Mind racing, Player realized that his original assumption had been wrong; his capture wasn’t about Carmen. Okay, at a stretch his capture was about Carmen, but not because they knew about Player, let alone that he was Jacob O’Connell. Assuming VILE thought Carmen was still on good terms with ACME, this was about his parents and the very important information they’d neglected to tell him.

“And a huge pain in the ass at that,” Coach Brunt added.

“Yes, but one that may not be a problem very soon,” Maelstrom said. He turned his attention from Coach Brunt to Player. “And I’m happy to say, Jacob O’Connell, that you will be assisting us in taking down ACME.”

“I’m sorry, but if my parents didn’t tell me about them being super secret agents, how exactly am I supposed to help you?” Player asked bravely, forcing his body to stay still.

“Oh so you do have a backbone,” Dr. Bellum sneered, turning her full attention to him instead of the multiple screens that usually kept her attention.

“All the more fun for us,” Coach Brunt smirked as she stood up, cracking her knuckles. At the other end of the table, Roundabout stood as well, twirling his cane as they both approached Player.

_Yeah,_ Player thought weakly, _Team Red should definitely avoid tropical islands from now on._

The Cleaners shoved Player onto his stomach, one pressing his shoulders and pinning him to the floor. The other stepped out of sight, sending chills up Player’s spine as he wiggled helplessly, fear churning in his stomach. There was a clicking noise, and Player felt something cold snap around either ankle. The second Cleaner released Player, but before Player could sigh in relief, he saw the two shackles clasped to his ankles. Connected by a metal chain threaded through a small metal circle welded to the ground, Player couldn’t move more than a foot or so from the anchor point. Finally, the Cleaners released him, backing out of view. His struggling had opened the cuts left by the rope that still bound his wrists together but Player kept his attention firmly on the two figures towering over him. 

Player forced himself back onto his knees, trembling, but unwilling to lay sprawled on the ground before the two villains.

“Get ready for some pain,” Coach Brunt’s grin was all teeth.


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now things REALLY start to go downhill...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now the chapters should (hopefully) be getting a bit longer and more interesting. Or at least more intense. And, amazingly, they seem to be getting longer. For this chapter in particular, WARNINGS for graphic depictions of violence, general whumpage, torture, torture of a minor (is there a difference?), descriptions of blood etc. Oh, and more cursing.
> 
> This is the real beginning of the part that makes this story M, so please keep this in mind as you continue to read this fic. Things are gonna get worse before they get better.
> 
> So, yeah… PLEASE don’t kill me? Go kill the VILE faculty! I did say this was whump!
> 
> Thanks as always to Vodonn!
> 
> I do not own Carmen Sandiego (Netflix). This story is a work of fiction that came from my own horrible brain because I have been searching for Player!whump and haven’t found many fics like that.

The first punch slammed into his gut like a battering ram, nearly knocking Player backward and onto the floor again. Instead, he curled forwards, gasping as he tried to regain his stolen breath. He knew all about Coach Brunt’s almost inhuman strength, but he’d never imagined he’d feel it himself. Hearing Carmen’s gasps and whimpers when she’d fought Coach Brunt had been more than enough to paint him a mental picture of what she was capable of. A rough hand snagged Player’s hair, yanking his face up to stare into Coach Brunt’s sadistic grin. A second punch, this time a left hook, hit Player’s jaw and snapped his head back. He let out a small whimper of pain but swallowed down the rest of it.

A jab to his ribs knocked him on his back and a right hook slamming into his other cheek kept him dazed on the floor. A powerful kick to his ribs had Player curling into a ball on his left side, another whimper escaping him. Player bit his lip, the pressure breaking the skin and the taste of copper danced on his tongue.

Blow after blow rained down on his rib cage; an unrepentant punch pounded against his sternum and a silent gasp fell from his lips. He wondered if he could distance himself from the pain, like Shadow-san had told him about over a late night phone call during Carmen’s recovery from her fight with Brunt.

Another punch, slamming into his left knee, tore a gasp from him, quickly followed by another punch to his other knee. After that, the beating seemed to blur.

A punch, a kick, a slap, another kick, another punch, punch, punch, kick, and on and on.

_Fuck this hurts, it hurts, it hurts... Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, MAKE IT STOP!_

“Why won’t you make some noise, you piece of shit!” Coach Brunt yelled. Player flinched but stubbornly kept quiet.

_I won’t give them the satisfaction,_ Player thought frantically. _I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, Ican’tIcan’tIcan’tIcan’tIcan’t._

Then there was a snap and someone was screaming; Coach Brunt laughed and he felt sick. The beating stopped, if only for a moment, and Player lifted his head to look down at his feet.

_Oh,_ Player realized numbly. _I guess I’m the one who screamed._

He was pretty sure his right ankle wasn’t supposed to bend like that.

Tears streamed down his cheeks and Player let out a hiccuping sob but bit his lip again to hold in the rest.

“Well, I guess that’s a start!” Coach Brunt snarled but backed away from Player’s crumpled form. 

Closing his eyes, Player tried to take stock of his injuries. He’d seen what some alone time with Coach Brunt had done to Carmen and even if he couldn’t do anything about them at the moment, Player knew he had to count his wounds. Player was no medic, but he’d picked up enough from the rest of Team Red to get the general picture of what had happened to him despite the haze of pain.

Player would look like a walking bruise within the half-hour if he didn’t already look like one. Coach Brunt hadn’t been pulling any punches, or kicks, and had beaten every inch of his body. Both cheeks were badly bruised from Coach Brunt’s punches and backhands, but Player didn’t think his jaw was fractured. He had a black left eye that was throbbing along with his entire abdomen. Definitely bruised ribs and maybe a few cracked ones, but nothing was broken, or so he hoped. If he’d broken a rib and it had punctured a lung, Player figured he’d be coughing up blood. Brunt had spared his back, but his bruised knees would make walking painful and he didn’t even want to think about kneeling again. Or standing for that matter

The worst was his ankle.

It was an excruciating, brutal pain where even the slightest movement brought flashes of pain to his entire body. Player didn’t know enough to determine what kind of break it was; he only knew his ankle was broken. Badly. That would make walking impossible even if he had the strength to do so.

“I think that’s enough for now Coach Brunt,” Roundabout cut in. Player hated that he felt a spark of gratitude towards the man. “Time to bring in ACME’s lost agents.”

Player froze as the duo walked away from him, eyes going wide. There was a crackle of electricity that faded into a hum along with a chuckle from Dr. Bellum. Forcing his eyes open ( _when had he even closed them?_ ) Player saw the translucent green dome surrounding him. The dome was large enough that he could’ve sprawled out like a starfish and, had he been able, would’ve allowed him to stand up straight. 

Any gratitude he may have felt towards Roundabout had been reduced to ashes.

“I’d avoid the dome walls little Jacob,” Dr. Bellum sneered, “unless you want the shock of a lifetime.”

If Player hadn’t been in so much pain, he would’ve groaned and snapped some snarky remark at her. The faint sparks that danced at the edges of the dome made the consequences of touching it perfectly clear without Roundabout wasting his breath on a pun. 

It was so bad it should’ve been illegal. 

It was worse than when Zack had been obsessed with puns for an entire two weeks, using them at any available moment. He’d finally stopped when Ivy had threatened to break his nose; Player had cracked up and Carmen made no effort to hide her smile. Player wished he could recall that flash of a memory in greater detail. Instead, he remained curled up into a pained ball.

A side door swung open, near the faculty head table, and the Cleaners dragged his parents in. Both were cuffed, their hands in front of their bodies rather than behind them, but their ankles were free. They scowled at the faculty, but then their eyes landed on their son.

“Jacob!” Lisa O’Connell screamed, struggling against the iron hold of one of the Cleaners. Martin scowled, mimicking his wife’s movements, but was equally trapped.

“Cleaners? Why don’t you let this little family reunite?” Professor Maelstrom drawled, and the Cleaners immediately released their captives.

Player tried to swallow as his parents ran towards him, desperately searching for the strength to speak. His mouth and throat were dry but Player wasn’t sure if it was because of Coach Brunt’s beating or his dread at seeing his parents. It was through sheer stubbornness that he forced his voice to work.

“Stop! Don’t touch the dome,” Player rasped out, bringing his parents to a skidding halt a foot away from the green dome. Player may not have any kind of a relationship with his parents, but that didn’t mean he wanted them to get electrocuted. His father dropped to his knees trying to get as close to his beaten son as he could without touching the green shield.

His mother whirled around, snarling at the VILE faculty, “What did you do to him?”

“Why don’t you ask your son? He’s supposed to be a genius, isn’t he?” Countess Cleo mocked.

_I’d be flattered if someone from VILE hadn’t said it,_ Player thought, _and if I knew how she even knew about that… Maybe it’s just obvious?_ Player briefly shut his eyes to send a quick prayer to any deity he wouldn’t believe in in any other situation.

But, well, extenuating circumstances and all that.

“Son, what did they do to you?” Lisa asked, voice choked and eyes wide.

“It looks worse than it is. Just beat me up is all,” Player rasped. He tried to uncurl but yelped as his broken ankle was jostled.

Both of his parents’ faces darkened.

“And apparently broke your ankle!” Martin growled.

“Yeah, and maybe broke my ankle,” Player admitted, biting down another whimper of pain. “And cracked a rib or two?”

“What do you want?” Lisa sneered at the faculty, keeping her and her husband’s bodies between them and her captive son.

“Just some information, that’s all,” Roundabout practically purred.

“About?” Lisa asked shortly.

“Your employers of course,” Roundabout answered.

“Please remember who is behind you before you refuse,” Countess Cleo said pointedly.

His parents blanched. Player could tell without seeing his mother’s face; her trembling, white knuckled fists told him everything.

“As an added incentive, if you cooperate, we’ll give you some medical supplies to treat young Jacob,” Professor Maelstrom smirked.

_Okay, I’m not THAT young!_ Player mentally snapped.

Player watched as his parents exchanged a long look. He’d seen his parents communicate nonverbally more times than he could count, using hints of facial expressions to have an hour-long debate in a minute. With a huff of dark amusement, Player realized he wasn’t sure if his parents would fold and spill ACME’s secrets or if they’d leave him at VILE’s mercy until they caved, if they ever did.

“Fine,” Martin answered, voice curt. “But Jacob comes first.”

“You don’t have the power to make that demand,” Coach Brunt retorted, taking a step forward.

“We’re not demanding,” Lisa said. “We’re begging.”

Player figured the beating and concussion, even a minor one, he’d obtained earlier was messing with his brain. If ACME agents were anything like Chief, then their pride would likely get the better of them and he’d be spending some more time with Coach Brunt. But their faces weren’t frozen in fury like he’d expected. Were they really…?

“Then beg,” Roundabout smirked.

“What?” Martin asked.

“You want us to treat your son before you start talking? Then beg,” Roundabout repeated.

Player stayed quiet, unsure what he should say, if he should speak at all (which he doubted).

“We’re begging you,” Martin’s voice hitched. “We’re begging you to let us help our son.”

“Please,” Lisa said.

“Please,” Martin repeated after his wife.

“Good enough for me,” Coach Brunt said, turning to her colleagues. Countess Cleo and Professor Maelstrom looked like they disagreed with Coach Brunt, but didn’t protest, while Roundabout and Dr. Bellum watched Player’s parents intently.

“Do anything with these supplies beyond helping your son, and he’ll spend another hour with Coach Brunt,” Roundabout warned as the Cleaners returned to the room. They dropped a white box at Martin’s feet, before slinking back into the darkness of the hall.

Dr. Bellum tapped on one of her screens and the dome faded away. Player gasped as his parents swarmed around him, his mother laying his head in her lap while his father dug into the box. The room was silent as the two secret agents helped their injured son, taking out a scalpel to cut the ropes binding Player’s wrists. That explained Roundabout’s warning about not using the supplies to try and escape. Some kind of cream was rubbed into the sluggishly bleeding cuts and Player hissed again. His parents both wore pained looks, guilt obvious in their eyes. 

The kit didn’t have any bandages large enough to wrap around his ribs and Carmen had warned him about the dangers of binding injured ribs. Your ribs naturally move when you inhale and exhale; if they are compressed by tight bindings, for example, it restricts your airflow. This is especially dangerous if the ribs are broken rather than bruised and cracked, but thankfully Player managed to avoid any broken ribs. Rest and painkillers were the only solution for injured ribs; Carmen’s injuries had shown him that.

Martin turned to the faculty. “We need to treat his ankle and we can’t do that with him chained up like this,” Martin said, the plea was badly hidden in his voice.

Dr. Bellum tapped a different screen and the shackles fell away with a clatter.

Gentle hands, rough and calloused and so familiar, lifted his ankle into his father’s lap. Player bit back a scream, biting into his lip again and ignoring his parents' confused looks. _Confused and scared looks_ , Player mentally corrected.

A soft bandage wrapped around his ankle twice, before two wooden sticks were placed on either side of his ankle to serve as splints. The bandage was wrapped around his ankle until it ran out; two metallic clips kept it in place. Player briefly wondered if he could use the clips to defend himself but had to choke back laughter at the desperate thought seconds later. The clips were too flimsy to do much more than keep the bandage in place. His mother pressed a pill to his lips and though he whined in protest, she was insistent.

“It’s a painkiller Jacob, please take it,” she begged. That got Player to open his mouth, grimacing as he swallowed the pill dry.

“That’s enough of that,” Roundabout called and the Cleaners yanked Player’s parents away from him before they could move a muscle. The Cleaner holding his mother kicked the first aid kit away from Player; the box skidded to a stop when it hit a side wall.

The electric dome once again sprang up around him, leaving Player unshackled but still trapped.

His parents were cursing in multiple languages that Player hadn’t realized they knew, and he only knew from Carmen, as the Cleaners wrestled them into metal chairs. As soon as they were forced to sit, metallic cuffs materialized and clapped around their wrists and ankles while another band wrapped around their waists like demented seatbelts.

“Remember your bargain, _agents_ ,” Professor Maelstrom narrowed his eyes, and Player’s parents’ struggles ceased, slumping down like puppets whose strings were cut.

“Now, let’s start off simple,” Roundabout whispered, “Where is Carmen Sandiego?”

His parents both snorted. “Why would we know where she is?” Lisa asked.

“You don’t ask the questions. We do,” Professor Maelstrom hissed, before nodding at Roundabout who returned the gesture.

Roundabout practically waltzed over towards Player, the dome deactivating and allowing him access to Player. 

“I know Coach Brunt would love to pick up where she left off, but I think it’s my turn now,” Roundabout grinned. “I’d hate to ruin your work of helping your son, but I don’t think I have a choice.”

Before Player could even attempt to move, Roundabout swung his cane, hitting Player’s mid-back with a thud.

Player gasped at the unexpected blow, squirming away from the villain despite the pain from his injured ribs. He didn’t get very far before Roundabout’s cane pressed into the small of his back, pinning him to the ground. He grunted at the weight and pressure forcing his ribs and sternum against the frigid ground.

“We don’t know!” Martin shouted, eyes firmly fixed on his son.

“Wrong answer,” Roundabout growled.

_Is there a right answer?_ Player thought dazedly.

Player heard a metallic sliding sound, then the swish of something moving quickly through the air. Then the pain cut into his upper back, across his shoulder blades. Player cried out from the unexpectedness of the cut, reminding him that Roundabout’s cane wasn’t only for helping him walk; it was a saber. 

Another swish, another cut, another cry of pain. The cane’s sheath stayed firmly planted on Player’s back, preventing him from escaping the sharp blade that was cutting red lines through his white shirt and hoodie. Crimson streaks slowly began to form.

A third swish, a third cut, a third cry of pain.

“We don’t know! We don’t know!” Lisa cried out.

“We don’t work with her! We’ve been trying to find her for months!” Martin yelled.

Roundabout snarled and Player tensed, waiting for the next slash of pain, when the large screen in the middle of the room, just above and beyond from where Player was, lit up.

“Esteemed faculty members, I apologize for the interruption, but I bring urgent news,” a familiar voice drawled.

“Troll, you better have a good reason for calling,” Roundabout snapped.

“Oh I do,” the Troll purred. “I’ve finally hacked into Jacob O’Connell’s laptop and cell phone.”

Player froze before craning his neck to look at the screen, more specifically at the Troll.

“Whoop-de-do, you hacked into the laptop of a sixteen-year-old boy,” Countess Cleo rolled her eyes.

“And why do we care?” Coach Brunt sighed.

“Oh, this isn’t the laptop of any sixteen-year-old boy,” the Troll said, pausing dramatically to smirk at Player.

“I hacked the tech of Carmen Sandiego’s secret weapon.”


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I would like to say that things get better in this chapter, but I think that'd be a lie? Please don't kill me! Go murder VILE instead! Also, Player's parents are still clueless and need a reality check.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am completely blown away by the support for this story! This started as an idea that came from a rant to Vodonn over a month ago and now it is slowly becoming its own story. I wasn’t planning on posting this chapter until later this week if not next weekend, but I thought that it was a little unfair ending the last chapter on a semi-cliff hanger. Also, Sunday nights suck in general and posting usually makes me happy. 
> 
> That said, the next chapter probably won’t be posted until next Sunday if not later, so apologies in advance. I’ve FINALLY gotten around to watching Merlin and am now obsessed. Don’t judge me; I’ve been busy! The downside of me becoming obsessed with a new fandom is that it makes finishing fanfictions in other fandoms a bit more challenging. I have a general idea of the plot line of this story (which normally isn’t the case and why I only have one other fanfiction posted that’s currently on hiatus for personal reasons) so I’m hoping the story will be complete by the end of December just to give you a rough timeline.
> 
> Thanks as always to Vodonn!
> 
> I do not own Carmen Sandiego (Netflix). This story is a work of fiction that came from my own horrible brain because I have been searching for Player!whump and haven’t found many fics like that.

Player had whimpered, hissed, and yelped out pained cries since Coach Brunt had first punched him, but now he’d never felt more like sobbing. 

_Stupid, stupid, stupid, idiotic moron,_ Player thought to himself despairingly. _Why didn’t I shut down all of those tracking programs and then my laptop? Amateur mistake..._

“...say what?” Coach Brunt asked, eyes wide with shock even as she leaned forward.

“May I present Carmen Sandiego’s secret weapon, or should I say Player?” the Troll replied, glee filling his voice.

“Fuck you!” Player snapped, his frustration-fear-anger-helplessness-pain-agony decimating his remaining patience.

“Well that’s not very nice,” the Troll tutted before turning back to the faculty. “I wondered why a teenagers’ laptop would have such heavy encryption and I must admit, it was rather impressive, but it was worth the effort to find all those little tracking programs Player here had running, trying to track down VILE. Then I thought to myself, “self, why would a teenager be trying to find VILE?”, and that’s when I realized something.”

“You realized that you’re an idiot?” Player mocked. “Took you long enough to figure that out!”

“Quiet!” Roundabout barked, kicking Player’s injured ribs, forcing a gasp from his lips.

The Troll scowled, “No. The only idiot here is you. Those sneaky little codes reminded me of something, or should I say, someone. They had the same markings as the ones Carmen Sandiego used to hack into my system in October. We both know that one’s hacking abilities are like a fingerprint, and yours were all over your tech. It wasn’t hard to deduce from there who Jacob O’Connell really was.”

Player hadn’t wanted to punch someone so much in his entire life.

“It took me quite a bit of hacking to get into his phone, but it confirmed my suspicions. You send quite a number of texts to “Red” about your “capers”, don’t you?” The Troll grinned smugly, leaning back in his chair as his final “question” was directed at Player.

“If it took you “quite a bit of hacking,” to get into my tech, then you’re a worse hacker than I thought,” Player sneered.

“What was that?” the Troll growled.

“That tech had the barest minimum of my security on them. If it took you so long to access them, no wonder VILE is so incompetent,” Player snapped, enjoying the rather deranged look the Troll sported as his face grew increasingly red. He knew he should probably try to control his mouth, but if his connection to Carmen was no longer a secret, Player wasn’t going to hide who he was anymore. He hadn’t been Jacob O’Connell in years; now that name felt more like a mask for hiding Player instead of his true identity.

“HOW DARE-!” the Troll yelled but was cut off by Professor Maelstrom.

“Very well, your interruption was quite helpful,” Professor Maelstrom hummed as the Troll muttered under his breath. “Especially since young Jacob’s parents seem to have been unaware of their son’s status as Carmen Sandiego’s “secret weapon”.”

“Not so secret now,” Coach Brunt smirked.

Player cringed before he even turned to face his parents who he’d forgotten were even in the hall. Both were pale, eye wide, and filled with too many emotions to identify. His stomach felt like it was doing somersaults, fear, and anger swirling around to create a tornado. Player couldn’t find it in himself to feel guilty considering his parents had kept a rather ginormous secret from him as well. 

“It seems we have a way of locating Carmen Sandiego after all,” Dr. Bellum grinned. “I’m sure Player here knows all about my truth extractors.”

_Fuck_ , Player thought to himself. He knew exactly what evil gadget was talking about; he didn’t think he’d ever forget what happened to Devineaux. Player now knew what Carmen had felt when Coach Brunt had almost killed her after she’d found Devineaux, and he wasn’t particularly interested in experiencing what Devineaux had gone through.

“Ah so you do know about my genius invention,” Dr. Bellum observed, clapping her hands together gleefully.

“Hard to forget a device that was used to torture someone,” Player hissed. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Dr. Bellum smiled.

“Cleaners, take these three back to the dungeon. I think they have plenty to talk about,” Professor Maelstrom smirked. The Cleaners released Lisa and Martin, quickly slapping new pairs of shackles on their wrists, the cuffs connected by two feet of chain. They were herded over towards Player, who glared at the faculty in favor of looking at his parents.

“What about his back?” Lisa hissed while Martin knelt beside his son.

Player pursed his lips.

“They won’t kill him,” Dr. Bellum waved dismissively.

“That’s not the point. He’s bleeding!” Martin snapped, eyes trained on Player’s back.

“Too bad!” Dr. Bellum giggled.

That confirmed Player’s suspicions. The cuts on his back probably weren’t deep enough to need stitches. He doubted that VILE would care if he did need stitches, but they still needed him to blackmail Carmen; if Player died from blood loss, then VILE lost their trump card. 

“I’ll live, but you forgot about something. How exactly am I supposed to walk?” Player scowled. “Broken ankle that is seriously swollen, remember?”

“I can carry you,” Martin cut in, picking his son up bridal style before anyone, notably Player, could protest. Too shocked to actually argue, Player hissed from the pressure against the cuts crossing his back when his father picked him up. Ignoring Martin’s faint gasp, Player zoned out as his parents were escorted by the Cleaners back into the dungeon.

Player could’ve sworn the distance between the hall and his old cell in the dungeon was longer when Tigress and Paper Star had taken him to the faculty. Now, time seemed to slip by like grains of sand in an hourglass. In what felt like mere seconds, Player felt his parents get shoved into a cell that looked almost identical to the one he’d awoken in. However, this one had a pair of shackles dangling from each of the three walls, not including the one with the door. 

The Cleaners shoved Player out of his father’s arms, sending him tumbling to the ground with a thud and a brief cry. When the pain had finally passed, his mother and father were shackled to the back and left wall respectively, leaving the Cleaners to cuff him to the right wall. Player hissed as his back came in contact with the wall behind him, the cold temperature slightly numbing the cuts even through his clothing. Without a single word, they left, the door slamming closed like the lid of a coffin.

Silence rang between the family of three.

Player was familiar with all kinds of silences; it could be peaceful, melancholy, volatile, tense, or something different altogether. There were the peaceful silences between him and Carmen when they were talking, basking in each other's company even though they weren’t in the same physical place. The melancholy silences thrummed and Player found that guilt often nipped at the edges of it. Player had experienced volatile silences only a handful of times which were usually caused by pent up anger or frustration that wasn’t always directed at Player, but the situation Team Red was in.

Tense silence was perhaps Player’s least favorite. They were uncomfortable and unlike the other kinds of silences, Player found that he was often the angry one when they occurred. Player had compared them to the stifled stillness that came before a monstrous storm with winds that toppled trees and lightning that scorched the earth. Yet Player had always been fond of that silence because he loved when it rained. It was as if the earth itself was giving a sigh of relief even when the storms left a trail of havoc behind him. But unlike the silence before a storm, the tense silence offered no promise of easing up.

“So, how long have you been working for ACME?” Player broke the silence, practically spitting out the name of the organization.

“That doesn’t concern you. How long have you been working with Carmen Sandiego?” Martin snapped at his son. The ACME agents’ worry for their son vanished now that they were away from the VILE faculty. Player could tell from their tense bodies that they were all too aware of what he’d been subjected to before they’d been dragged into the room, but they were obviously ignoring that in favor of getting answers.

“So since you started ignoring me and became workaholics. Guess that fits,” Player remarked, ignoring his parents' expressions.

“We didn’t ignore you!” Lisa snapped.

“Are you kidding me?” Player gaped at his parents.

“We cared for you! We have a responsibility and you were mature enough to be left alone,” Martin said through pursed lips.

“Bullshit!” Player barked, startling both parents though Player wasn’t sure why. They’d heard him curse not even fifteen minutes ago at the Troll and VILE’s faculty.

Player barreled forward before his parents could get a word in edgewise. “As soon as you joined ACME you were never around. You left me alone for weeks on end, if not months, not even checking in with a short call or even a text message! For the love of God, I was 8 years old when you started doing that! It shouldn’t matter how mature I am; that’s just irresponsible and neglectful parenting! Sure, I had a babysitter until I was 10, but who leaves a kid at home by themselves, no matter how mature they are!?!”

“Our job is to protect the world from evildoers! We thought you’d be mature enough to understand how important our careers are,” Martin retorted.

“Not like you ever told me about that!” Player snapped back. “And you just said that I was mature enough to be left alone. So which one is it, or do you even know considering you never spend time with me?”

“Your mother and I decided to not tell you about our careers for your own protection, and that secret is by now about on the same level of you aiding and abetting an international criminal!” Martin shouted.

“She’s not a criminal!” Player blurted out.

“Then what is she?” Lisa cried out and Player suspected that had her hands not been suspended above her head, she would’ve thrown them up in exasperation. He felt like throwing his arms up in exasperation, but his injuries would’ve prevented that rather than his restraints.

“A hero,” Player said bluntly, narrowing his eyes at his parents, “and a good person.”

“What reality do you live in where she could possibly be seen as a hero? She breaks the law in every country she’s ever been in and jumps around the world like see owns it,” Martin growled.

“Amazingly, I’m still in this reality. The difference is that I’m not blinded to what reality actually is,” Player glared. “Carmen isn’t with VILE; she’s fighting against them. She only steals from other thieves, which basically means that she’s stealing from VILE, and always returns what she steals to the rightful owners!”

Martin and Lisa opened their mouths, but paused, rolling Player’s words around in their minds. It was true that, one way or another, whatever Carmen Sandiego had stolen, it was always returned. 

“Then why did she hack ACME?” Lisa said, staring intently at her son.

Player pursed his lips, eyes narrowing. All of what he’d told his parents so far was common knowledge to VILE, or at least it wasn’t something that Carmen was actively trying to hide. But his mother’s question wasn’t something he wanted to answer, especially when their cell was undoubtedly under surveillance from the VILE faculty and the Troll. Dr. Bellum’s not so subtle statement that they’d be torturing him with the truth extractor to learn all of his secrets still echoed in his mind. Helplessness sank into the pit of his stomach, guilt already flooding him at the dark reality that lay before him. Player clenched his jaw and fists.

_VILE will try to get me to spill my secrets, but that doesn’t mean I have to make it easy for them to do so,_ Player thought to himself grimly.

“Jacob!” Martin snapped, jerking Player out of his thoughts.

“Well? Why did Carmen Sandiego hack into classified ACME files?” Lisa scowled.

“Aren’t all ACME files classified?” Player mused to himself, mostly to distract himself from his unpleasant future.

“Jacob O’Connell-!” his parents barked but were cut off by the slam of the door opening.

_This is going to suck…_


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And things get even worse...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, there are a few lines that are in BOLD which I do not own. If you don’t recognize them, I’m amazed; I haven’t even seen all of the show and I know the song almost by heart! If you don’t, please know that I don’t own Pokemon or that theme song. Also, there are two rants from Player with SPOILERS from other fandoms. // will indicate where the rants are which have the spoilers. They will be at the beginning and the end of the rants. I also don’t own anything by DC Comics (like Young Justice) or anything from Star Wars (which is now owned by Disney). 
> 
> Since I am still obsessed with Merlin, this story will probably be updated once a week, but some chapters might be later. I’ve never been the best at juggling multiple fandoms, especially when they’re very different from one another. I’ll probably be obsessed with Merlin for at least a month but I’m determined to get this story done!
> 
> Thanks as always to Vodonn!
> 
> I do not own Carmen Sandiego (Netflix). This story is a work of fiction that came from my own horrible brain because I have been searching for Player!whump and haven’t found many fics like that.

................

Player was getting pretty tired of being cuffed. 

Unlike the first time Player had been dragged out of the cell, Tigress and Paper Star were not alone. Standing behind them were Le Chevre and El Topo, two more people had never wanted to meet. They weren’t as sadistic and cruel as the two young women standing in front of them, but Player wasn’t stupid and knew they could be plenty lethal if necessary. 

“And here I thought Black Sheep would’ve told you to always protect the face,” Tigress sneered down at Player, gesturing to the bruises decorating his face.

“Big talk for someone who habitually forgets to do just that,” Player snapped.

Tigress scowled while her companions sniggered. 

“Shut up brat,” Tigress sneered, releasing him from his restraints.

Player slumped against the ground, grimacing at the bolt of pain that shot up his leg from his ankle. Sneering up at his captors, he asked, “How exactly am I supposed to walk anywhere?”

Tigress smirked but Paper Star’s sadistic grin was far more terrifying.

“Why, that’s what the Mole and the Goat are for,” Paper Star purred, “but mainly just the Mole.”

Le Chevre and El Topo glared at their companions. Le Chevre opened his mouth, but when Paper Star turned her grin on him, he promptly closed it. El Topo trudged over to Player and threw him over his left shoulder like he weighed nothing. Facing away from the four villains rendered his glare ineffective. His parents’ faces were both stony and their bodies shook slightly in anger, but Player could see the fear in their eyes.

“Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of Black Sheep’s no-longer-secret-weapon,” Player heard Le Chevre jeer.

“You monsters!” Lisa snarled while Martin snapped, “Leave him alone!”

“She’s not Black Sheep anymore,” Player bit out, ignoring his parents’ words. “She’s Carmen Sandiego.”

“Not for much longer,” El Topo said.

Player swallowed as his breathing hitched. By the slight movement of El Topo’s shoulders and his quiet chuckles, he’d caught Player’s reactions. 

Without another word, the four villains stalked out of the cell, leaving behind the cries and curses of his parents.

The group was silent as they walked away from the cell with El Topo and Player bringing up the rear. Player could hear the slight murmurs of Tigress, Paper Star, and Le Chevre with the random comment thrown in from El Topo, but not clearly. His head felt fuzzy and his ears were buzzing, probably from the minor concussion but his rising panic was likely responsible for that too. To help fight off his panic, Player focused on keeping his breathing steady. Player eventually calmed his breathing but it had little effect on the panic roiling in his gut.

_I am so screwed,_ Player thought to himself.

Without warning, Player heard a door open and found himself looking at the back wall of the room from before where he’d gotten the crap beaten out of him.

El Topo lifted him off his shoulder only to slam him down into a metal chair that sat a short distance from the faculty table. Roughly shoving Player against the back of the chair, he gasped in discomfort as his cuffs dug into his wrists. Two thick leather belts, one just below his shoulders and one around his waist, strapped him to the cold metal chair. To his relief, Player's ankles were not bound to the chair’s legs, but additional straps just below his knees prevented him from moving.

The VILE faculty were all in their seats at the head table with the four VILE agents casually leaning against the wall to his right.

_Guess they’re interested in a bit of “fun”,_ Player thought despairingly.

Professor Maelstrom leaned forward with a thin-lipped smile. “One final chance, Player. Feel like telling us anything?”

“Fuck you,” Player hissed. Any amusement on Professor Maelstrom’s face disappeared. Dr. Bellum stood up and walked towards Player, holding her truth extractor in both hands.

“Let’s see what Black Sheep’s “secret weapon” really knows,” Dr. Bellum snickered and shoved the truth extractor onto Player’s head.

The truth extractor didn’t hurt but then a dull buzz filled his ears and a bright green light danced in his peripheral sight. For a moment, Player thought the truth extractor wasn’t working and almost giggled.

Then came the pain.

First, it was dull, like when you push on a bruise that was almost healed, but that didn’t last long. The pain became increasingly sharp, rivaling the sensation of hitting your funny bone, to the sting of cutting yourself with a paring knife. Biting his lip to stop a high pitched whine, Player distantly wondered if his minor concussion was making the truth extractor more painful. Crying out as the pain intensified, swelling up and clouding his mind. Somehow, through the intense pain that felt like his skull was cracking open, a hazy memory drifted forwards.

_Devineaux didn’t try to stay quiet… instead he rambled and while I hate to take a page out of that idiot’s book, it’s worth a try,_ Player thought desperately.

Now Player wouldn’t call himself an amazing singer, but he was confident that he was better than Devineaux had been.

“ **I want to be the very best, like no one ever was-** ” The words came out strangled but surprisingly well articulated.

“What are you-?” Countess Cleo began, but Player continued.

“ **To catch them is my real test,** ” Player continued, squeezing his eyes shut to block out the pain and his environment, “ **to train them is my cause!** ”

He could faintly hear the occasional snigger from some of the VILE agents who Player assumed recognized what he was singing.

Before Player could sing the next verse, a sharp backhand extracted another cry of pain. Forcing his eyes open, Player noted through the barrage of pain that Dr. Bellum had been joined by Countess Cleo. Both were snarling, but Player was mildly surprised to find that it was Countess Cleo, who was shaking out her hand, who had slapped him. Countess Cleo hadn’t been all that interested in participating in the faculty’s “fun”, but everyone had a breaking point.

Apparently, Pokemon was that for the Countess.

“Where is Carmen Sandiego?” Countess Cleo snapped.

The other faculty members sitting at the table looked on in approval. Player clenched his teeth, but persevered, taking a moment to stretch his jaw before picking up where he’d left off.

“ **I will travel across the land, searching far and wide,** ” Player continued, smug amusement warring with the pain that wracked his body. “ **Each Pokemon to understand, the power that’s inside!** ”

Another blow to his right cheek bone prevented Player from singing the chorus to the Pokemon theme song. Distantly, Player was a bit disappointed that he was cut off, this time by Dr. Bellum.

“I’m getting impatient,” Dr. Bellum snapped while Countess Cleo huffed and stalked back to her seat.

“And I thought that idiot Devineaux was annoying,” Coach Brunt grumbled. 

“This one is more stubborn than Agent Devineaux, but I’ll admit I’m surprised he hasn’t become overwhelmed by the truth extractor yet,” Roundabout frowned.

A giddy giggle built up in Player’s chest. Player knew the pain was wearing down on him, grinding his pain tolerance to dust. That didn’t mean he couldn’t make one final stand.

**//** “Overwhelmed? Try underwhelmed. Or maybe whelmed? Can you be whelmed? Is that even a thing? If you can be overwhelmed and underwhelmed, then shouldn’t whelmed be a thing? Like, the neutral version between overwhelmed and underwhelmed? Isn’t there a whole thing and ongoing recurring joke-thing that starts in the first episode of season one of Young Justice but continues into season three,” Player babbled. “Actually, maybe I shouldn’t be thinking about that… Would this count as copyright infringement? I mean, you can’t help what you think exactly, but normally you have a mental filter which I currently seem to have lost. Or misplaced. Or something or other. Not sure. Should I give a spoiler alert about this? Actually, do you think Spoiler would care? Nevermind, that’s off topic… Like, it doesn’t have anything to do with the plot exactly, just Robin/Nightwing/Dick Grayson’s habit of murdering the English language. But, like, I guess it would be a spoiler to say that ‘Wing’s first language wasn’t English and that’s why he has a hard time with it? I kinda like whelming, and this situation is kinda a disaster; heavy on the dis and low on the aster. That and you guys are not whelmed, not whelmed at all.” **//**

Had it been any other situation, Player would have been monumentally proud at the flummoxed looks he’d garnered from every occupant in the room. The looks quickly morphed into more menacing ones which he was less than thrilled about. He was completely serious about the copyright infringement however. What would DC Comics think? Would they try to sue him if they could?

“Where is Carmen Sandiego?” Professor Maelstrom bellowed.

Player grit his teeth. _I won’t answer. I won’t answer, I won’t answer._

Choking out a strangled laugh, he switched topics.

**//** “Okay, I get it; you don’t like Young Justice! What about Star Wars? Huh? C’mon, it’s STAR WARS! Well, okay, if you don’t like the sequel trilogy, I guess I can let that slide even though your evil… Also, SPOILER ALERT! Am I currently experiencing the real-world version of Order 66? Like it didn’t force the clones to tell the truth but it did make them “flesh droids”. Kinda? I guess it depends on how you perceive Order 66. Mind-control chips and all that, forcing the clones to turn and kill their jedi - fuck what’s the word in Mando’a? _Jetii_ maybe? - who were kinda like family to some of them even though they probably wouldn’t admit it. Then again, do the chips force the clones to do things and give them something like amnesia but the only thing left is the brainwashing until the chips are removed? Or are the clones true selves and personalities locked away so that they can only watch what their bodies do and are helpless, trapped inside their own minds? I think the second one is worse, mainly because it reminds me of my situation. Though I think everyone in that universe needs therapy or something. Except Sidious, because he’s an asshole who totally deserves to die in the lava on Mustafar or something. Also, the clones are treated horribly! Then you watch _Star Wars: The Clone Wars_ and you become attached to the clones and then you’re sad and depressed when the clones die and it’s horribly horrible especially when you remember that it’s all Palpatine’s fault and the whole pointless war would exist if only that fucking son of a bitch-!” **//**

A cry of agony escaped Player, tears streaming down his cheeks, and preventing him from finishing his rant. Or at least prolonging it. Now, it was too much.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

A wave of terror washed over him and then everything went blank. The pain became a dull throb and Player felt like he was out of his own body, observing what was happening but utterly helpless to do anything about it.

“Carmen Sandiego is in San Diego, California, the United States of America,” Player answered. His voice lacked any emotion, but the tear tracks continued to run down his sweaty face. 

“And where exactly in San Diego is she?” Roundabout asked pointedly.

“The old Carmen Brand Outerwear warehouse,” Player replied dutifully.

“That cheeky little...” Roundabout grumbled.

“Why is she there?” Dr. Bellum asked.

“It serves as her homebase.”

“Well, I suppose we should congratulate her for finding a new residence. Tell me, _Player_ ,” Professor Maelstrom sneered his name mockingly, “seeing that the Troll managed to unlock your phone, would she happen to answer it if you called her at any time, whether it is day or night?”

“Yes.”

Trapped inside his own mind, Player broke down into screaming sobs.


	8. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth extractor is working, Player's in mental/emotional/physical pain, and you readers want to murder VILE faculty (and VILE in general probably)... Am I missing anything?
> 
> Also, BOLD are questions from VILE while underlined are Player's answers, in case that wasn't clear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god you guys! Thank you for all the support for this story, both on fanfiction.net and on Ao3. With how this story seems to be going, I’m trying to post every Sunday but that might change depending on my schedule and if I get any (more) writers’ blocks. This is the second longest chapter I’ve done for this story which is why I will be late for the following chapter; the next update will be closer to December 9th. December is a busy month for me, but I’m still hoping to finish this by the beginning of January, but again, that might change. I’ll keep you updated on that as I write. I’m also still obsessed with Merlin, which likely won’t go away for a while, which is also why I’ve been having a harder time writing. Oops?
> 
> I also realized a slight inconsistency in the Introduction, which I’ve fixed on Ao3 but haven’t yet on fanfiction.net. This story is taking place in DECEMBER, not January, which the intro says and contradicts what’s in Chp 1. Eventually I’ll get around to fixing that.
> 
> Thanks as always to Vodonn, especially with this chapter which was a serious pain to write!
> 
> I do not own Carmen Sandiego (Netflix). This story is a work of fiction that came from my own horrible brain because I have been searching for Player!whump and haven’t found many fics like that.

Player wasn’t sure why VILE kept interrogating him after he’d revealed where Carmen was and that she’d always answer the phone if it was him calling. _Probably because they were sadistic assholes,_ Player thought hysterically as he watched himself answer each question he was asked.

**How long have you known Black Sheep?**

I first met her when I was 12 years old.

If he’d had control over his mind and body, Player would have flinched at hearing Carmen’s old name. It had amused him, at first, to hear the teenager insist he call her “Black Sheep”, but it faded once he knew the truth about her childhood. “Black Sheep” was a weapon, not a person, and it was painful to even think of his best friend as that.

**So you knew her before she became Carmen Sandiego?**

Yes.

**How did you meet Black Sheep?**

I hacked into VILE and proceeded to contact her to inform her that VILE’s security needed an upgrade.

The faculty’s expressions told Player that they were not amused but the Troll’s face sent a faint pulse of satisfaction through his body despite the truth extractor. Player doubted that the Troll had been the one in charge of VILE’s cyber security when he’d first hacked it, but apparently he still took offense to Player’s hacking. 

**Were you aware of what VILE is when you first hacked us?**

No.

**What did Black Sheep tell you when you first contacted her?**

The call was more about your horrible security and me rather than Carmen.

The Troll’s face was practically puce at Player’s sass. Player quickly hissed as the pain ratcheted up, yanking what little control he’d managed out of reach once again.

**How did the cellphone come into Carmen Sandiego’s possession?**

According to her, she stole it from the Captain of the ship which transported Miss Booker to the island when Coach Brunt punched him.

**What did you and Black Sheep discuss before she betrayed us?**

We became friends, sharing semi-regular phone calls depending on our schedules. We talked about our lives, but nothing overly specific.

There was something that felt vaguely like nostalgia, that settled on his shoulders. Even through the fog clouding his mind, a feeling of warmth hit him for the barest moment before vanishing.

**What did she tell you about her classmates and us?**

She told me about what you were like and what her relationships with you were like.

**What would be an example of this?**

She told me about her rivalry with Tigress and her friendship with Grey

Player grimaced, remembering the pang of jealousy that had raced through him when Carmen had told him she’d made a new friend. Carmen was his best and, at that time, only friend. He wasn’t able to interact with her outside of phone calls and texts while her new friend had been interacting with her in person. (They didn’t use video chats until Carmen had a laptop and was far away from VILE). Carmen hadn’t been aware of his irrational jealousy at the time, and Player was fairly sure she knew about it now, but their continued conversations had soothed his ruffled feathers unknowingly. Those emotions were long gone, even before Crackle had been turned back into Grey.

**What do you now know about VILE’s agents, students, and faculty members?**

Everything that Carmen knows about you.

**Did you influence her decision to betray us?**

Not exactly.

**Explain.**

I didn’t know what VILE actually was initially, so I had no reason to encourage her to leave. When she stole her phone back from VILE, she told me that she was looking at a hard drive that contained information that would fuel VILE’s schemes for the entire year. I did encourage her to steal the hard drive using the “wicked skills” she’d told me about.

He didn’t even try to stop those words from escaping his mouth. Player was more than happy to watch the displeased looks eat away at any control the VILE faculty had once had.

**What was your role in Black Sheep’s betrayal?**

Beyond encouraging her to steal the hard drive, I didn’t do much until she was able to contact me from the yacht she’d taken out of the range of VILE’s “lock-down” procedures which block any communication with the outside world. Then I was able to create any documentation she’d required to travel and live in the outside world.

**What documentation did you create for Carmen Sandiego?**

Player struggled a bit before he was forced to answer. He wasn’t particularly interested in telling VILE any more about his skills then they already knew.

Passports, drivers licenses, a semi-fake file of background information which included a social security number which was later necessary for her to purchase her homebase.

That wasn’t anything overly impressive when one considered he’d hacked into the VILE hard drives, but they were skills that were invaluable to Carmen.

**Where does she store her monetary assets?**

A series of bank accounts under a variety of names, but most are under her name.

**Did you set up these accounts?**

Yes.

**Did you use the stolen hard drives to plan Carmen Sandiego’s “capers”?**

Yes.

**When did you first start hacking?**

I was between 8 and 9 years old.

**Where did you learn how to hack?**

At home by myself.

**Are you self taught?**

Yes.

Player distantly wondered if the Troll’s head would explode if he continued to turn darker shades of red. Or what it was doing to the other hacker’s blood pressure.

**Why did you learn how to hack?**

I was bored and needed a challenge.

**I assume you were a white hat hacker originally. Am I correct?**

That is correct.

**Why?**

I wanted to help people.

Player desperately wanted to say _and because I have morals_ , but the pain overrode that desire.

**How did you hack the VILE hard drives?**

I broke through every level of encryption you had.

Brief and to the point, if a bit vague. Player wasn’t quite sure how much the VILE faculty and agents knew about hacking, other than the Troll, but the question was vague enough for him to give such a short explanation.

**How long did it take you to hack the VILE hard drives?**

A week or two for the first one. Less than that for the second one.

Oh Player wished he had a camera (and could actually take pictures but that was beside the point). If he wasn’t under the influence of the truth extractor and hadn’t been tortured and kidnapped by VILE, each and every member of VILE present was priceless.

**Why did Carmen Sandiego immediately begin her “capers” once you’d hacked the hard drives?**

She wanted to see the world after being trapped on an island for most of her life.

**Where did she explore before her first “caper”?**

All over the globe.

**Did you help her travel during that time?**

Yes.

**How did you help her travel?**

I helped coordinate and schedule modes of transportation and booked lodgings for her. 

**How did the hard drives come into your possession?**

Carmen delivered them to me.

**Does Carmen Sandiego know where you live?**

Yes.

**How does Carmen Sandiego know where you live?**

She delivered both hard drives to me in person.

**Why did she deliver the hard drives in person?**

We both thought it was too high a risk to mail them. It was a risk for her to visit me in person, but we wanted to meet face-to-face at least once.

**Did Carmen Sandiego ever visit your house outside of the times she delivered the VILE hard drives to you?**

No.

**Seeing that your parents were unaware of your partnership with Carmen Sandiego, how was she able to deliver the hard drives to you in person?**

They were on a business trip both times.

_Okay, they were actually on top-secret ACME missions but it wasn’t like I knew that prior to a few hours ago,_ Player thought.

**How long have your parents’ careers required them to leave you alone for extended periods of time?**

Since I was 8 years old and started hacking. That was when they got new jobs at what I now know is ACME at, I assume, field agents.

**How did you receive an education?**

Online, virtual school.

**Why not attend a public or private school?**

I’m a certified genius well beyond what students my age are learning. My parents arranged for my education a year before they switched careers.

He was more than a little thankful that the truth extractor hadn’t forced him to reveal the bullying he’d endured at a young age. This situation was violating enough and any privacy he could get, he’d gladly take.

**Did your relationship with Carmen Sandiego influence your decision to pursue your education virtually?**

Not initially, but when I became Carmen’s “secret weapon”, online learning became necessary.

**Why?**

Online learning, for me, doesn’t work on a regular schedule at a consistent time. I go at my own pace rather than attend classes at a regular time. Due to the nature of Carmen’s “capers”, which occur all over the world, they are often in different time zones from my own. By having a flexible schedule for my education, I am able to help Carmen at any time with few exceptions which I alert her to in advance.

**What was your role as Carmen Sandiego’s “secret weapon” outside of hacking the VILE hard drives?**

I am tech support, which includes hacking into other locations depending on the “caper”, a navigator, conduct background research if needed, and any other task which might be required for a “caper” or event.

**What is your relationship with Carmen Sandiego?**

She’s my best friend.

**Just a friend?**

Player wasn’t sure if he was dumbfounded or disgusted by what Roundabout wasn’t saying. Carmen was at least 4 years older than him!

She’s practically my big sister.

Okay, he wished he hadn’t said that...

**What does she know about your parents?**

She knows they aren’t home most of the time and are workaholics.

**What is her opinion of your parents?**

She doesn’t approve of their parenting skills.

**What is her relationship with ACME?**

Currently they are not on good terms. They are hunting her down now that I hacked into ACME’s database.

**Why did you hack into ACME for Carmen Sandiego?**

For more information about her past.

**What does she know about her past?**

She knows Shadow-san didn’t file a complete record of what happened to her father. Her father was murdered by Chief who is the founder and head of ACME, not Shadow-san. She knows a woman named “Vera Cruz”, which we assume is a code name, is her mother and is presumed to still be alive.

Silence.

Player shut his eyes, not at all interested at the faculty’s reaction to that piece of information. His head was killing him and the brief silence was welcomed.

**How often do you talk, or text, with Carmen Sandiego?**

Almost constantly. We text often but use phone calls, video chats, or calls over comm links more regularly. We contact each other at least every 24 hours even if it is a quick text which says we’re busy and will get back to them later. That has only happened a handful of times and usually on my end but if that is the case, I normally text her within 12 hours rather than 24 hours. Carmen is the one who contacts me in the 24 hour range if she is unable to talk at the present moment.

**What would her reaction be if you didn’t contact her within your usual time frame?**

She’d be concerned if I didn’t contact her within 24 to 36 hours. Anything after 36 hours would worry her. If I am out of contact for more than 4 days, she’d visit my last known location in person.

**Has that changed with you being on vacation?**

No.

**How would you initially contact her if you did not contact her within that time frame?**

Text her informing her that either something has happened and further instructions regarding my situation or I’d ask if she’d be available to talk in a more immediate way which she’d somehow manage even if she wasn’t actually available. 

**What would be your next form of communication?**

A text telling her to contact me immediately.

**When would that take place?**

As soon as we were both free.

**In your opinion, would you be one of Carmen Sandiego’s weak spots?**

Player hadn’t fought against the truth extractor this much since the moment the damn thing was forced onto his head. He knew the answer; he’d always known the answer but he’d never verbalized it. Carmen had never verbalized it either. Player knew that neither of them had ever wanted to even think about someone finding out about his existence.

The pain was excruciating; it drilled into his temples, crashed against his skill like ocean waves during a hurricane. Spots danced across his vision and he knew that the faint screams he heard were his own.

...yes...

Player felt silent tears streak down his cheeks. He knew VILE had likely known the answer to that question before he’d even answered, but it still hurt and not only because of the truth extractor’s effects.

**What would she do to protect you from harm?**

I am unsure as I have never been in a situation like this before.

Not a lie...

**What do you think she would be willing to do to protect you from harm in this particular situation?**

_Fuck…_ Player bit his lip but couldn't stop himself.

Depending on what you’re asking of her, likely a good deal of things. It would be similar to what happened when VILE kidnapped Zack and Ivy.

**Based on your current state, what would her reaction be?**

Furious. She’d rescue me and burn VILE to the ground.

Player wasn’t sure if that was the truth, but he said them anyway. It was one possibility and Player clung to it. He didn’t want Carmen to be within 50 miles of VILE’s new headquarters, but the desire to see his best friend, his oldest friend, his _sister_ , was overwhelming. 

“Well, we wouldn’t want to keep Carmen Sandiego from her “secret weapon” for much longer, now would we?” Roundabout smirked, turning towards his colleagues who wore equally chilling looks.

Dr. Bellum walked over to Player and removed her truth extractor with a harsh yank and shoved the chair around so his back was to the faculty. Player instantly slumped forward, as if he was a marionette whose strings were slashed. Shaky shuddering gasps escaped his lips, his entire body quivering with a whirlwind of emotions. 

Relief: the pain was receding, leaving only phantom spasms in its wake.

Exhaustion: the mental and physical strain of the truth extractor were more extensive than he’d anticipated.

Panic: they’d soon be contacting Carmen.

Terror: Player wasn’t sure what would happen next, but it wouldn’t be good; not for him and not for Carmen.

Player’s gasps were cut off as a piece of ducktape firmly silenced him, forcing him to quickly adjust to breathing through his nose. Dr. Bellum stalked back to the rest of the VILE faculty as the familiar ringing indicated his phone or his laptop were being used to call Carmen for a videochat. Obviously they had linked his phone to the gigantic monitor that now hung in front of the faculty with Player situated between the monitor and the villains.

  
His best friend’s image blinked into existence; the only word floating around his mind was _fuck_...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I try to respond to all comments but I'm kinda behind on those from the last chapter. Sorry about all of that and will try to reply later. I do my best to do that, but if I don't, I apologize!


	9. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's catch up with Carmen, shall we?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW, I KNOW! I’m late… Sorry? I’ve been a bit busy and writers’ block has been a huge pain. The next chapter is written, but the one following that is still a complete mess. I’m hoping to post the next (and much-longer-than-this-one) chapter some time this weekend. If it isn’t up by Sunday, then be on the lookout around Wednesday or so. Also, still totally obsessed with Merlin! Talk about polar opposite fandoms...
> 
> So there’s a quick flashback in this chapter which references LEGO Star Wars: the video game. If you’ve never played it or don’t know anything about it, it doesn’t matter. Part of the scene was taken from a conversation with my brother because I genuinely can’t fly or drive in video games without crashing into something every 5 seconds. I thought about trying to work with a different fandom since I already used Star Wars for one of Player’s rants earlier, but LEGO Star Wars is a video game I’ve actually played (and am currently trying to get 100% completed on my cellphone with mixed results). 
> 
> Thanks as always to Vodonn! I had WAY too much fun picking out ringtones and bouncing ideas off of you for which ringtone would match who. :)
> 
> I do not own Carmen Sandiego (Netflix). This story is a work of fiction that came from my own horrible brain because I have been searching for Player!whump and haven’t found many fics like that.

Carmen was bored.

Since she escaped from VILE, she could count on one hand the number of times she’d been bored. Carmen’s life had been one adventure after another, jumping between every continent and country. The few times she’d been bored, she’d been confined to bed for medical reasons (i.e. recovering from Coach Brunt’s beating, or frostbite in Stockholm). Now, not only was she bored, but she missed Player.

Player was the little brother she’d never had, who always had her back and was a constant source of comfort. They’d gone longer without contacting each other, but it still left her unsettled. Carmen knew that she was being ridiculous, but a nagging sense of wrongness persisted in the depths of her mind.

So now not only was she bored, but she was fretting. Carmen Sandiego did NOT fret; yet, there she was pacing the length of her room.

With a groan Carmen flopped down on her bed into a dramatic sprawl. Carmen reached blindly around her bedside table to snatch up her cellphone. Absentmindedly waking up the screen Carmen huffed; still no word from Player.

She thought about going to find Ivy, Zach, or Shadow-san to distract her from her own thoughts. Ivy and Zach were a hurricane of distractions on their own, and a spar with Shadow-san would normally help clear her mind.

Normally.

Instead she found herself tapping in her passcode and opening an app folder named “time wasters”. One of the many things Player had taken upon himself to teach her were the joys of mindless, time-wasting games. Well, that along with emojis and memes. Her brow furrowed as she flipped through the folder, eventually settling on _Fruit Ninja_. While LEGO Star Wars was tempting, Carmen still struggled on the flying levels and she wasn’t in the mood to crash into something every 5 seconds. A smile settled on her face; Player had laughed so hard he’d fallen out of his chair the first time he’d watched Carmen play the podracing level of LEGO Star Wars.

………

_“It’s NOT funny Player!” Carmen snapped, trying to block out Player’s sniggering._

_“No, you’re right. It’s not funny… It’s HILARIOUS!” Player replied._

_Carmen looked up from her phone to scowl at her laptop screen where Player could be seen flipping through a thick book via their video chat. The sound of Anakin Skywalker’s podracer crashing into the stone canyon wall brought her attention back to her phone’s screen._

_“It’s not like I’ve had years of experience playing video games like you do,” Carmen grumbled as she narrowly avoided flying into a hole._

_“Doesn’t make it any less hilarious,” Player said. He laughed as Carmen let out a stream of curses after she lost the race, sending her back to the beginning of the level. She hears a faint thud from her laptop and a quick glance confirmed her suspicions; the jerk had fallen out of his chair cackling._

_“I’m going to throw my phone across the room if I do any more of this level,” Carmen snapped, exiting the level with a few aggressive taps to the screen. “I’m replaying the first level instead.”_

_“To find the last few minikits?” Player asked._

_“Shut up,” Carmen grumbled. “I’m only missing one and I already know where it is.”_

_“Really?”_

_Carmen turned her attention back to Player who had climbed back into his chair and raised an incredulous eyebrow at her._

_“Yes really!”_

_“I’ll believe it when I see it!” Player snarked._

_Carmen turned back to her phone to select the new level and chose her character._

_“Who do I pick?” Carmen muttered to herself._

_“Try Jedi Master Shaak Ti,” Player recommended._

_Carmen shrugged but took Player’s advice and selected the character icon._

_“And try not to die before you even get the first power-up!”_

_“PLAYER!”_

……….

A quiet boom reached her ears as Carmen swiped one of the bombs instead of a three-hit banana combo. Huffing in annoyance, Carmen put her phone to sleep and dropped it above her head carelessly. 

Now her thoughts continued to swirl around her brain at a dizzyingly fast speed. Her worries about Player’s lack of communication came flooding back with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. Carmen knew that, despite his age, Player was one of the most competent, mature people she’d met and not only because of his genius level intelligence. He was her “secret weapon” and now she wasn’t only missing him; Carmen’s concern for Player was growing by the second now that she’d abandoned any form of distraction.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried to contact him. Carmen had sent about a dozen texts and left half as many voicemails, all of which were unanswered.

And that is what made her worry. 

Even when Player couldn’t talk with her for some reason, he’d always send a text to Carmen letting her know he was busy and would explain things later. Part of Carmen told her that she was being ridiculous and worrying over nothing. A larger part of Carmen was telling her something was very, very wrong.

Pursing her lips Carmen contemplated reaching for her phone to send off what would be the thirteenth text, when her phone rang.

Once Player had taught her how to set personalized ringtones, both for voice and video calls, she’d had far too much fun picking out ones that reminded her of her friends. 

Ivy’s was _Run the World (Girls)_ by Beyonce.

Zach’s was _Shut Up and Drive_ by Rihanna.

Shadow-san’s was _Kung Fu Fighting_ by Carl Douglas.

And Player’s?

_Hey brother! There's an endless road to rediscover._

_Hey sister! Know the water's sweet but blood is thicker._

Player’s ringtone was _Hey Brother_ by Avicii.

Carmen rolled onto her stomach and snatched up her phone, quickly accepting the video call. A smile stretched across her lips, a friendly greeting on the tip of her tongue when the call connected and she froze. Her eyes widened as she realized that her gut feeling of wrongness hadn’t been incorrect.

_No… Oh, no, no, no, no!_

“Well Lambkins, long time no see?” Coach Brunt sneered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know in the comments which ringtone you'd pick for each character!


	10. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The most awkward video chat of all time... Also, sorry Player and Carmen in advance! Don't kill me! If you do, I won't be able to finish the story! And that would be bad...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW!!!! I’m LATE! What we should take from this is that I shouldn’t make guesses/promises as to when I will actually update. So here’s an update on that. I thought this story would be completed by the end of 2020 but that won’t be happening, for better or for worse. I’m posting this chapter on Sunday, the night before my bday. I’m planning on taking another 2 or so weeks off, or approximately until 2021 give or take. During that time I will work on finishing the story, or at least working out what the caper will look like. I was supposed to plan out the caper a few months ago, but got busy and so that hasn’t happened… I don’t want to post anything more until I have that all written up and am more or less happy with it. So we’ll see what happens, but no matter what, the next chapter should be posted around January 1st unless something blows up, etc. Thank you for your patience and enjoy!
> 
> HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE!!!!
> 
> Thanks as always to Vodonn! 
> 
> I do not own Carmen Sandiego (Netflix). This story is a work of fiction that came from my own horrible brain because I have been searching for Player!whump and haven’t found many fics like that.  
> .......  
> EDIT: 9:14pm EST, STILL OBSESSED WITH MERLIN! This is becoming an addiction... No regrets! If you have any fic suggestions, let me know in the comments! :)

Player knew Carmen. 

He knew Carmen was sitting on her bed and, judging from the angle, had answered the call on her phone rather than her laptop. Carmen’s hair was up in a messy bun; the few strands hanging down were tucked back behind her ears. She wore a black tank-top and though Player couldn’t see the rest of her body, he knew she had on lounge pants of some sort. Carmen would wear something casual and comfy when she was bored, though that usually was because she was recovering from some injury.

Player didn’t think it was an exaggeration to say he knew her better than anyone else. Sure, she was close to Zach and Ivy, and Shadow-san was a mix of a mentor and almost-parental-figure to her, but Player was different. 

Player had always been and would always be different.

He’d met her long before Carmen donned a matching red fedora and trench coat, before she’d escaped from VILE and taken an actual name. 

Player had known that Black Sheep was only a code name since he’d first called her and introduced himself by his hacker persona. Unlike Player’s name, Black Sheep wasn’t a real name, and the nickname “Lambkins” made him nauseous. Jacob had picked the alias of “Player” during his first phone call with Carmen and now felt like he identified more with that moniker than he did with his birth name. Unlike his new name, Black Sheep (and while it wasn’t Carmen’s birth name, it was really all they had to go on for now) was the name of a weapon, not a person, and no matter how many times he heard it, it cut Player to the core.

The gutted look on Carmen’s face cut just as deep as guilt engulfed him. 

“Player!” Carmen gasped, completely ignoring Coach Brunt.

Even if Player wasn’t gagged, he wasn’t sure what he would’ve said. He settled for trying to tell Carmen that he was okay with his eyes, even if they both knew that was complete bullshit.

“Come now Coach Brunt,” Roundabout tisked. “This is a rather touching reunion after all.”

Player figured that Coach Brunt hadn’t taken Carmen’s ignoring her very well, and unlike Roundabout (apparently), wasn’t amused by her actions. 

Carmen’s wide eyes were scanning Player’s slumped form at a rapid fire pace, barely resting on one part of him before jumping to the next. Player didn’t need to be a genius (which he was) or any kind of medical practitioner (which he decidedly was not), to know that his current state was less than optimal. He also didn’t need to be a psychic (something else he was not), to know that Carmen was furious.

“What do you want?” Carmen growled, keeping her eyes on Player who knew the fury in them wasn’t directed at him.

“Not going to “tell” us to let your precious “secret weapon” go?” Coach Brunt sneered.

Carmen jerked her eyes away from Player and snarled at the faculty.

_That’s because Carmen’s not an idiot and knows it isn’t even worth asking for them to let me go,_ Player thought duly. Not only did Carmen know what VILE was like, the situation with Zach and Ivy had proven that asking that question was futile.

“As much as I’d like to know how you kidnapped Player, I find it much more important to know what you want,” Carmen snapped.

“If you are unable to guess that, then my opinion of your intelligence has dropped significantly,” Roundabout huffed.

“Me,” Carmen answered through clenched teeth. “You want me.”

“Very good Miss Sandiego,” Roundabout drawled, “though you must admit that’s a bit obvious.”

“Then why did you ask?”

“You need to understand just what your position is right now,” Professor Maelstrom replied.

“If I don’t do what you order me to do, you hurt Player,” Carmen snarled. “How original.”

“Well Lambkins, really it’s we would hurt him more,” Coach Brunt smirked.

“Quite, especially because he is infuriatingly stubborn and annoying,” Countess Cleo muttered.

“Though you’ll be happy to know that he did try his best to fight my truth extractor, but alas, we all have our limits, don’t we?” Dr. Bellum said; an evil grin Player couldn’t see was obvious in her tone.

Carmen’s eyes narrowed and her lips pursed, gaze flickering between Player and the villains behind him. Player could read the obvious concern and fear in her eyes but he didn’t remove his gaze from her. 

He didn’t think he could if he tried.

“Tell us something, Carmen Sandiego,” Roundabout said, “just what would you do to save young Jacob?”

Player flinched at the sound of his birth name. 

Carmen’s eyes flashed and her gaze hardened as she seemed to stare down the faculty. Then she focused on Player and her face softened incrementally.

“Whatever it takes,” Carmen replied quietly

Player hung his head, looking away from Carmen for the first time since she’d appeared on the screen. On some level, he’d expected Carmen’s reply, but hearing it hit him like a punch to the gut. He’d spent enough time with Coach Brunt to know exactly what that felt like. 

Distantly he knew none of this was his fault. It was VILE who had beat him to a bloody pulp and violated his very mind; it was VILE who used him to manipulate his parents against his will. Player couldn’t help the spark of anger that flared at the thought of his parents’ and their secret careers. He didn’t have much patience for even entertaining a single thought about ACME.

But guilt and self-reproach swamped his mind. If only he hadn’t left his programs running when he’d put his laptop to sleep. If only he had listened to Carmen and not worked on any of Team Red’s projects while on “vacation”. If only he’d looked into what his parents’ new careers were years ago, before he’d even met Carmen. 

If only… If only… If only… 

Player knew that “if only”’s did no good beyond adding to his present guilt but he couldn’t help it. He was supposed to be a genius, and had proven that over and over again. 

He forced his attention back to Carmen who was still focused on him rather than her former teachers.

As Player’s attention was firmly on his oldest friend, he wasn’t aware of Coach Brunt approaching him until the duct tape gag was painfully ripped from his lips. A cry of pain escaped him before Player could bite his lip to stem it.

_I have a serious love-hate relationship with duct tape right now_ , Player thought somewhat hysterically to himself. It might be one of human-kind’s greatest inventions next to indoor plumbing, air conditioning, and chocolate chip cookies, but it fucking hurt when it was ripped off of bare skin.

“Player…” Carmen trailed off, seemingly unsure of what to say. It was one of the few times Player had ever seen her so unsure of herself or of her situation.

“Hey Red,” Player croaked with a grimace. He hadn’t realized how dry his throat was until he’d opened his mouth. 

Carmen pursed her lips together as her eyes flashed.

“I thought you were supposed to be getting some sun,” Carmen said quietly, a faint note of forced humor rang out, “and maybe some extra sleep.”

“You know me Red, I’m happy in my dark little cave back home,” Player sent Carmen a slight grin, remembering her caper in Poitiers, France when she’d asked who would wall off an atrium.

From the matching grin on her face, Carmen remembered their conversation from back then too. She choked out a pained laugh.

“As sickeningly sweet as this is,” Professor Maelstrom drawled, “let us get back to the matter at hand. I believe you know what this is?”

Carmen’s reaction was enough for Player to tense. Her eyes were wide and any color drained from her face. A quiet gasp escaped from her lips and Player got the impression that she was resisting the urge to cover her mouth with her free hand.

Whatever VILE was showing Carmen that he couldn’t see, she was familiar enough with it to know what it was and was disturbed by it. 

_“Disturbed”_ _might be an understatement_ , Player mused to himself shakily. 

The heavy footsteps of Coach Brunt alerted Player to the villain’s movement towards him. Suddenly Player’s chair was yanked so he could see both the VILE faculty and Carmen. Coach Brunt smirked at him before circling around to stand behind him, one massive meaty hand resting on each of his shoulders. Player’s eyes drifted to the faculty table before halting on Dr. Bellum. He barely registered Professor Maelstrom gesturing at the object in Dr. Bellum’s hands as his heart skipped a beat.

Player couldn’t make out the details of the device from his distance, but what he could see wasn’t encouraging. It was a ring of sorts with a square-shaped item attached to the back of it. Probably an inch wide, the metallic circle glinted in the unsettling lighting of the room. Judging by the diameter and circumference of the-

Oh.

He’d never been one for jewelry and Player had no desire to start wearing a choker necklace now. Especially one provided by VILE. 

Nothing good ever came from VILE.

Except Carmen, but she didn’t count. She was always the exception.

“It’s a compliance collar,” Carmen replied. Player could hear the fear in her voice he’d previously only seen behind her well sculpted mask.

_Well that’s not very encouraging,_ Player thought as his eyes flickered between the metal ~~collar~~ ring and Carmen’s chalky colored face.

“Ah, good; you haven’t forgotten everything we taught you,” Professor Maelstrom purred.

_She didn’t forget any of it,_ Player mentally snapped, _she just isn’t a twisted sadistic psychopath like you people are_. However tempted Player was to voice his thoughts, he was all too aware of Coach Brunt’s hands pressed against his shoulders.

“Since young Jacob was not present for my demonstration and lecture on the use of this invention, why don’t you educate Player to inform him about it and to refresh your memory,” Dr. Bellum chuckled.

Carmen looked at Player but her eyes were glazed and he got the feeling she was trapped in a memory. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen that expression on her face; Carmen was remembering something she’d never wanted to think about ever again.

“Dr. Bellum’s first compliance collar was made out of titanium but over time she upgraded the metal to tungsten due to its higher melting point of 3422 degrees Celsius or 6142 degrees Fahrenheit. This improvement made it more durable and impossible to remove without the correct keys. There are two different keys required to remove the collar that must be turned at the same time; the locks are located on either side of the person’s neck, underneath their ears. If an attempt is made to remove the collar incorrectly, the microscopic bombs implanted inside it will deonate, killing whoever is wearing it along with anyone within 10 feet of them. The square box at the back of the collar delivers an electric charge that is remote controlled. The voltage and length of time the electricity is on is also controlled by the collar. It-” Carmen’s voice cracked for the first time and the glazed look in her eyes were now shattered windows. 

Maybe it was the fear which numbed him, but Player thought that this was more painful for Carmen than it would be for him.

“It is tightly fitted against whoever is wearing the collar to ensure the electric charge is utterly effective. If the voltage is high enough and is used for prolonged periods of time, the collared person will gain electric burns; there is the possibility that the burns will scar depending on the injury and if they receive adequate treatment.”

“That is an excellent summary Miss Sandiego,” Roundabout leaned forward, “but you’ve neglected to tell us what the original use of the collar was and what the contemporary purpose is.”

Carmen’s eyes squeezed shut, as if to hold back tears, before continuing, “Dr. Bellum originally invented them to help train Countess Cleo’s guard dogs, but the good Countess suggested a new use for them.”

“And what would that be?” Countess Cleo leaned forward, eyes glinting.

“To use it as a form of torture by electrocuting the victim,” Carmen’s eyes sharpened and any evidence of tears was erased from her face. A growling snarl manifested across her lips.

Coach Brunt’s hands tightened on Player’s shoulders hard enough to bruise and forced a yelp of pain from him. Carmen’s snarl vanished at Player’s pained noise.

“Stop it! Please, just stop it!” Carmen cried out.

“Dr. Bellum? If you would equip young Jacob with his new accessory?” Professor Maelstrom drawled.

“It would be my pleasure,” Dr. Bellum replied with a nod.

Dr. Bellum strode over to Player with the device in one hand and two keys in the other. The keys were metallic, presumably made from tungsten like the collar was, and looked like they’d come out of a Sci-Fi movie. Coach Brunt kept both hands on his shoulders, pressing down harder when he tried to struggle and escape the inevitable placement of the device. Dr. Bellum snapped the collar around his neck with an echoing click before passing one key to Coach Brunt once she’d removed her hands from Player’s shoulders. 

Another quick double-click and Player was trapped.

The collar was cold and tight enough to edge on uncomfortable but it didn’t inhibit his breathing. While it wasn’t heavy, its mere presence was like the weight of the sky that Atlus supposedly held up.

Coach Brunt and Dr. Bellum took their places back at the faculty table as all eyes fixed on Carmen.

“Now, Black Sheep, I believe it is time we discuss your mission. Oh, and welcome back to VILE,” Professor Maelstrom grinned.

If Player hadn’t known his new accessory was currently inactive, he’d blame the shudder that ran down his spine on the compliance collar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, during my quick break between now and January, I'll also work on actually NAMING my chapters. Hallelujah. :D
> 
> I also try to answer all comments, but apologies if I miss any!!!


	11. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> VILE has the worst taste in missions, Carmen wants to strangle them through the screen, and Player just wants this whole thing to be over already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’M BACK!!!! Please don’t kill me? Thank you all for your patience surrounding my not-so-brief hiatus. I had writer’s block which took forever for me to overcome, though Season 4 has definitely helped with that and then it came back… But hey, at least this chapter is one of the longer ones!
> 
> Also for me mentally, February is one of the hardest months of the year. Mental health comes first and my personal life has been super busy on top of that.
> 
> Looking back, I’m honestly not sure how I thought this story would’ve been completed in 2020… Oh well. Live and learn. So, whenever I get around to posting this, I should have a good amount of the story written. Reminder to self: whenever you write Carmen Sandiego stories, make sure to plot out your capers BEFORE you do any of the other writing. Somehow I thought I could get away with working out what the capers would be later and that they would be easier to write. Spoiler alert! They aren’t, and are possibly the most difficult thing for me to write between the research and planning needed for them to make any sort of sense at all. On the bright side, I now have another 5-10 or so chapters planned out, and there will probably be another 10-15 after that which I haven’t started to figure out yet. Baby steps you guys. Kinda.
> 
> I don’t have a planned posting schedule yet, so apologies about that. I’m trying to start posting a new chapter every two weeks but that depends on a whole bunch of other factors. Key word there is trying. I’m currently juggling two different jobs which means my available free time is severely limited.
> 
> Sorry I haven’t been responding to comments! Please know that I always appreciate them and all the support you guys have given this story.
> 
> Okay, I couldn’t help myself with some references in this chapter, mainly with some of the new OCs I’ve created for this new caper. Apologies if some of you are getting annoyed by references to so many other fandoms, but I just can’t help myself, especially since I’m still OBSESSED with Merlin! (If anyone has any fic recommendations, let me know!) It’s a serious addiction that I should probably be worried about… Oh well. :)
> 
> Thanks as always to Vodonn! 
> 
> I do not own Carmen Sandiego (Netflix). This story is a work of fiction that came from my own horrible brain because I have been searching for Player!whump and haven’t found many fics like that.

With the collar on, Player didn’t dare open his mouth. He was oh so tempted, but anything that left Carmen looking so shaken was something he had no desire to experience.

“Black Sheep, I assume you are familiar with a certain Dr. Calvin Watterson?” Roundabout asked.

Player’s eyebrows went up at the name. Carmen would recognize that name if only because Player had half-ranted/half-raved over the man’s work once or twice, as well as his wife’s, Dr. Morgana Watterson’s. 

Or, just maybe, potentially more than that…

………..

_“So let me get this straight,” Carmen grumbled, forehead resting on her desk with her hands covering her head, “you’re related to Dr. Calvin and Dr. Morgana Watterson.”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“The computer/engineering genius and the biochemist/cello prodigy? Both of whom teach at CMU?_

_“Yup.”_

_“And you know what both of them are researching and have known about it since you were 10-freaking-years old.”_

_“Uh huh.”_

_“And you didn’t tell me until now?!?!?” Carmen lifted up her head to glare at her laptop screen._

_Player grimaced before throwing both arms up in exasperation. “You didn’t even know who they were until a week ago!”_

_“Exactly! You waited a freaking week to tell me that you’re related to the Wattersons’!” Carmen continued to glare at the 14 year-old._

_Carmen had only escaped from VILE a few months ago and was currently exploring Pittsburgh. Courtesy of VILE (and Player’s mad hacking skills), she was enjoying the master suite and emperor-of-the-universe sized bed at her hotel. Besides traveling around the world, Carmen was reading anything she could get her hands on, including academic journals. It was her way of continuing her education without actually going to a formal college or university. Apparently Carmen had been raving about a research article by Dr. M. Watterson to Player, but he hadn’t been fully paying attention to her. In his defense, he had been running on 3 hours of sleep over the past few days while decrypting some information that Player couldn’t recall what it actually was about._

_So when Player mentioned he was “related” to the Wattersons a week later… well their current conversation was happening._

_“I was tired, okay?” Player grumbled._

_“Okay, seriously, you should get more sleep. More importantly for the moment, HOW are you related to them?”_

_Player sighed, leaning back in his chair to contemplate the ceiling._

_“First off, I’m not biologically related to them, okay? My mom and Dr. Morgana Watterson, who was still Morgana Collins at that point, went to some boarding school in the middle of Vermont together for high school. They met as freshmen because they were roommates and even though they were complete opposites, they were best friends. At least that’s what Morgana told me.”_

_“You call her by her first-!” Carmen began, but Player cut her off._

_“I’m getting there! So apparently Morgana and my mom kept in contact through college, but had some big argument after Morgana and Calvin got married. My parents are unaware that I know the Wattersons, and Morgana gets really quiet if I ask what their argument was about, so I only did that once. Calvin says that, while he didn’t know all the details, or won’t tell me because he respects Morgana’s wishes to keep some things a secret, that the argument was about Morgana marrying Calvin.”_

_“Get to the part where you met the Wattersons!” Carmen shouted._

_Player was grateful her hotel room was soundproof._

_“You know about the hacking challenge Calvin Watterson gives out to his students every year?” Player knew he was grinning like a maniac but made no effort to stop it._

_“No. Freaking. Way,” Carmen was wide-eyed. “You BROKE into his security?!?! You weren’t even one of his STUDENTS!”_

_Calvin Watterson’s personal cyber security was supposed to be one of the best in the entire world. The yearly challenge he gave his students was rather infamous, as it covered both his own research, but also Morgana’s._

_“I was bored,” Player started cackling as Carmen face-palmed, looking like she was questioning all of her life choices (or at least those which involved Player)._

_“I told him his security needed work,” now Player was rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, “so then he hacked into my network.”_

_Now it was Carmen’s turn to cackle._

_Player rolled his eyes and continued. “In another fit of sleep deprivation, I agreed to meet via video chat, so long as we could talk on a secure network protected by both of us. He agreed, Morgana was in the room when he called me the first time, and, well… either I look more like my mom than I first thought, or Morgana’s just awesome like that.”_

_Carmen was quiet before face-palming again._

_“Your life is so weird, Player.”_

_Player gave her an incredulous look. “Like you can talk!”_

…………..

Player had never told the Wattersons that he was working with the notorious “villain”, Carmen Sandiego, but he was positive they had figured it out within the first week after Carmen’s first caper. They knew he was a white-hat hacker, but they didn’t press for details, which he adored them for. 

He doubted they knew his parents were ACME agents. 

The Wattersons were mentors and friends to him though he hadn’t lied to VILE about being self-taught. Calvin had given him a few hints over the years but Player had done the same, so that evened out. Player had a general idea of what Calvin was working on, but what Morgana was doing he only vaguely understood. 

He might be a genius, but he wasn’t all knowing. 

Besides, he was only 16!

Fuck, he was only 16...

“Your assignment, or, “caper”, if you’d prefer, is to infiltrate Watterson Manor,” Roundabout smirked.

Silence.

Carmen’s eyebrows were raised in incredulity but her face revealed nothing else.

Player was sure all blood had fled his face as his eyes widened.

“Why?” Carmen asked through pursed lips.

“You are to steal one item for each of the faculty members of VILE,” Roundabout’s smirk could now rival a shark’s smile.

“But you won’t do it alone,” Countess Cleo leaned forward, hands clasped in front of her, “you obviously rely on your “secret weapon for all of your “capers”.”

Coach Brunt picked up where Countess Cleo left off, “Since you won’t have your usual home team’s advantage, let’s even the playing field. You can have your “secret weapon” back for now.”

“What’s the catch?” Carmen spat out before Coach Brunt could finish her sentence.

“This.”

Player wasn’t sure which faculty member had spoken as he was too distracted by the jolt of electricity that sprinted through his body. He yelped, more out of instinct than out of pain. After what Coach Brunt, Roundabout, and the truth extractor had done earlier, the electrical jolt was a papercut.

Or so he told himself.

“Player!” Carmen yelled.

“I’m fine,” Player called back, panting from the adrenaline rush and dawning realization of what the collar was going to be used for.

“This is your motivation to accomplish your mission efficiently and effectively. Every few hours you work on your caper, the kid gets a taste of what the compliance collar can really do,” Coach Brunt’s eyes were filled with far too much excitement for Player’s taste.

“Each time, the voltage goes up or the time is prolonged, or both,” Roundabout continued. “Depends on what we feel like.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” Dr. Bellum cackled. “If we get bored, we might just shock the boy anyway.”

“How’s he supposed to help me when he’s tied up like that?” Carmen gritted her teeth together. “He needs more extensive medical treatment if he’s going to help me.”

“Now, now Miss Sandiego, we are reasonable people after all,” Professor Maelstrom said with a smirk. “You will have 15 hours to prepare yourself for this “caper” and travel to Watterson Mansion; during that time the compliance collar will be inactive. We will give Jacob more medical attention and provide him with the necessary equipment for your mission.”

_Oh yes, “reasonable people” kidnap and torture people all the time,_ Player thought to himself. Had he spoken aloud, his words would’ve been dripping with sarcasm. Judging by the look Carmen shot the faculty, she agreed with Player’s thoughts.

“What do each of you want from Watterson Manor?” Carmen finally asked.

Professor Maelstrom leaned forward, “The Wattersons’ have a rather impressive collection of rare books and other pieces of literature in their library. These range across topic and discipline, from ancient medical texts that date back centuries, to preliminary drafts of the United States’ Declaration of Independence. However, I have my eye on a more… unique document. The Wattersons’ have one of Sigmund Freud’s research journals in their collection and would be better off with me.”

Player grimaced. 

He’d taken an introduction to psychology class at Harvard, who occasionally offered free online courses, and it had not gone well. Sure, he understood the material, but once they reached the history of psychology and Freud’s contributions to it, Player got annoyed immediately. It probably didn’t help that he had been taking a cultural anthropology class at the University of Pennsylvania at the same time. The two areas overlapped, but Player found that said overlaps were mostly full of arguments between the two disciplines. Cultural anthropology was fascinating and unexpectedly helpful when Player did research on the locations of Carmen’s capers. Player wasn’t at all interested in what Freud’s research contained, and, judging by Carmen’s less-than-pleased face, neither was she. 

_Though,_ Player thought, _that might be because she listened to a series of rants about him when I took the damn class._

Thankfully, Professor Maelstrom wasn’t inclined to share that information either, and nodded to Coach Brunt.

“I want the Olympic gold medal Calvin Watterson’s father won for wrestling. It should’ve gone to a former VILE operative, but Watterson’s old man took the gold medal home instead. It was stolen from us by that no-good cheater and I want it back! Besides, I need a new coaster for my whisky,” Coach Brunt drawled.

Player and Carmen shared the briefest of exasperated looks. They highly doubted that Calvin Watterson’s father cheated to win; a member of VILE, however, was sure to cheat. VILE never took failure well, and they took humiliation even worse.

“My caper is more elegant than my colleagues, but no less of a challenge,” Countess Cleo sneered. “Both Calvin and Morgana Watterson possess a treasure trove of jewellery which are family heirlooms; some of the pieces go back thousands of years. I want a set from the collection, and not just any set of jewels. There is a set consisting of a necklace, bracelet, ring, a pair of earrings, and an exquisite tiara, all of which will look fabulous with my new outfits. They are all gold, with various precious gem stones inlaid in them, including diamonds, sapphires, and emeralds. Appropriate, seeing that your meddling cost me Saint Edward's Crown, don’t you think?”

Carmen scowled, “I thought that was Roundabout’s caper.”

“Oh it was,” Countless Cleo glowered, “but I would’ve reaped the benefits of it as well.”

“As furious as I am about the result of that failed mission,” Roundabout growled, “I’ll let Doctor Bellum explain her caper before I challenge you with mine.”

“Appreciated, Roundabout,” Doctor Bellum cackled and turned to face Carmen and Player. “I want Doctor Morgana Watterson’s private research.”

Player froze in his seat while Carmen’s face looked as though it was carved out of ice. 

Morgana’s private research was an enigma to everyone, with the potential exception of Calvin. She once told Player that both Calvin and herself always had multiple research projects happening simultaneously, but not all of the projects’ topics were known. It was general knowledge that Morgana had private research projects, but the level of secrecy they were kept under was unparalleled. These “secret projects” (as Morgana called them) or private research (as, apparently, Professor Maelstrom called them) were kept hidden for multiple reasons. Sometimes they weren’t complete enough to reveal to the public, or they sounded so insane that Morgana didn’t dare suggest them until she had data to prove her theories. Or, Player suspected, whatever Morgana was researching had the potential to cause more harm than good. 

Carmen and Player exchanged a look, eyes meeting for no longer than a split second.

_I guess I’ll finally find out what Morgana’s been researching,_ Player thought hysterically, while praying that VILE never got their grubby fingers on the confidential research.

“Any other details you’d like to share with us?” Carmen asked with a raised eyebrow and a hint of sarcasm.

The sarcasm wasn’t quite hidden enough to go unnoticed by Doctor Bellum, and apparently the raised eyebrow wasn’t appreciated either.

Player let out a yelp as the collar shocked him. It didn’t last for more than a second, but it was enough to serve as an example of what the collar was capable of. The voltage had definitely gone up, but only enough to be noticeable; his yelp had been more out of surprise and unexpectedness of the pain.

“Stop!” Carmen cried out. Her eyes frantically switched between VILE faculty and Player whose breathing was uneven but the pain had receded.

“I’m okay,” Player rasped out, not bothering to attempt a reassuring smile.

“That was a warning,” Doctor Bellum growled, her finger lingering over a small remote. “You might’ve gotten away with it as Black Sheep, but it will not be tolerated by Carmen Sandiego. Clear?”

“As crystal,” Carmen replied through gritted teeth.

“To answer your question, that is all the information I am providing you with for now. I’ll inform your “secret weapon” of additional information once your caper has begun,” Doctor Bellum smirked.

“Which leaves my caper,” Roundabout sent Carmen and Player a grin which displayed far too many teeth.

“I want Calvin Watterson’s private research to...even the playing field.”

Player had thought anything Roundabout could have demanded would scare him more than Morgana’s research; clearly he was wrong.

It wasn’t that Player thought that Morgana’s research could be any less impressive or dangerous as Calvin’s, but unlike Morgana’s research (her published research was near impossible for him to understand anyway), Player knew what Calvin’s research could do in the wrong hands. Player didn’t know what Calvin’s current project was on, but he’d dropped a few hints over the past few months when bouncing ideas off of each other in an attempt to work around seemingly dead ends. Whatever Calvin was working on, it was sure to be revolutionary and equally dangerous.

“I’m assuming you’ll reveal any remaining information to Player once the caper’s begun?” Carmen asked, though it sounded more like a statement than a query.

“Very good Miss Sandiego,” Roundabout chuckled. “You’re getting a hang of how this will play out.”

“To summarize: I have five items to steal from the Watterson’s, and the caper begins in fifteen hours from the end of this call?” Carmen crossed her arms, fingers digging into her elbows.

“Correct,” Professor Maelstrom smirked.

“Between now and when the caper begins, Player will have access to more extensive medical treatment, time to sleep, and some food and water,” Carmen continued.

The VILE faculty exchanged looks that made Player rather uneasy.

“Yes, and the compliance collar will not shock your “secret weapon” every hour until you have arrived, provided he cooperates with us,” Countess Cleo sniffed.

“How am I supposed to travel to Watterson Manor?” Carmen asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Seeing as the Troll has hacked into young Jacob’s technology and now possesses the location of your hideout, he will text you instructions within the next few minutes,” Roundabout sneered.

“Are you ready to begin?” Professor Maelstrom leaned forward to smirk over his interlaced fingers.

Player and Carmen exchanged a final look. Player could read Carmen’s distress, anxiety, anger, and, worst of all, fear in her eyes; he sent her a faint grin in return.

“Fine, I’ll expect a text from the Troll in a few minutes and I assume you’ll contact me through my phone in fifteen hours,” Carmen nodded to the faculty.

“Yes, the Troll will monitor your location and once you’re in place, expect a call,” Roundabout smirked. “Safe travels, Miss Sandiego.”

The monitor turned black with a click, leaving Player alone once more and in the unforgiving hands of VILE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll get around to naming my chapters... eventually.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts/comments/questions?


End file.
